AND 

TALES 


UNIVER5ITY  PUBimiNC  © 

NEW  YORK  Pm  mi  ORLEAN5 


vS^y* 


')   UBRARY 

l/N/VERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 


/..--^ 


GOLDEN  ROD  BOOKS 


BALLADS  AND  TALES 


FOURTH  READEE  GRADE 


COMPILED   AND   ADAPTED   BY 

JOHN  H.  haaee:n^,  a.m. 


JOHN  S.  PRELL 

Civil  &  Mechanical  Engineer, 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  CAL. 

NEW  YORK  AND  NEW  ORLEANS 

UNIVERSITY    PUBLISHING    CO. 
1899 


GOLDEN   ROD   BOOKS 

GRADED  READINGS  FOR  SCHOOL  OR  HOME 

RHYMES  AND  FABLES 
SONGS  AND  STORIES 
FAIRY  LIFE 
BALLADS  AND  TALES 


JPlut^     '■ 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
UNIVERSITY   PUBLISHING  CO. 

♦  **  2107 


Press  of  J.  J.  Little  &  Co. 
Astor  Place,  New  York 


GIFT 


Ul 

PREFACE.  ^ 

The  selections  of  this  little  volume  are  made 
from  the  more  familiar  and  popular  ballads  and 
tales  relating  to  historic  or  legendary  incidents  and 
personages  that  have  been  celebrated  in  literature. 

A  ballad,  originally  sung  by  harpers  and  min- 
strels, is  a  simple,  spirited  narrative  poem  arranged 
in  short  stanzas.  The  early  ballads  of  all  nations 
are  founded  upon  historical  incident,  but  always 
highly  colored  by  the  singer  according  to  his  taste 
and  imagination.  The  ballads  that  have  come 
down  to  us  are  growths^  rather  than  direct  creations. 
They  are  the  work  of  several  hands,  and  the  result 
of  many  successive  adaptations.  The  compiler  has 
endeavored  to  select  ballads  that  tell  a  plain  story, 
and  have  at  the  same  time  some  of  the  spirit  and 
ring  which  we  naturally  look  for  in  compositions  of 
this  kind. 

Where  the  harper  was  not  at  hand,  or  where  the 
incidents  w^ere  so  many  and  complex  as  to  unfit 
them  for  narration  in  the  simple  form  of  the  ballad, 
the  tale  gratified  the  instinct  for  story-telling  that 
is    strong   in    the    human    mind.     The    tale   would 

913 


4:  PREFACE. 

probably  begin  with  the  adventures  of  some  real 
hero,  and  each  succeeding  narrator  would  add  to 
the  details,  Just  as  each  ballad  grew  according  to 
the  fancy  of  the  minstrel. 

In  both  the  ballad  and  the  tale,  the  mesh  of 
adventure  and  romance  that  has  been  woven  about 
the  heroes  of  olden  time  has  completely  hidden 
their  true  personality.  They  have  been  made  the 
subject  of  so  many  tales,  and  their  deeds  have 
been  so  freely  sung,  that  it  is  impossible  to  separate 
fiction  from  reality.  Heroes  have  come  down  to 
us  having  little  except  their  names  in  common 
with  their  originals,  but  they  have  a  permanent 
place  in  literature,  even  though  they  differ  from  the 
chai'acters  that  history  has  been  able  to  reveal  to  us. 

Such  selections  as  these,  put  into  the  hands  of 
the  young,  will  tend  to  foster  a  wholesome  enjoy- 
ment of  reading  and  to  develop  a  fondness  for 
books.  They  introduce  the  yoimg  reader  to  some 
of  the  names  and  deeds  of  the  olden  time,  which 
are  constantly  referred  to  in  our  standard  and  cur- 
rent literature. 


CONTENTS. 


KoBiN  Hood  akd  Little  John          .        •        .        .  7 

The  Tkue  and  the  False  Prince   ....  15 

The  Seven  Sisters 25 

Legend  of  King  Arthur 27 

Arthur's  Victories  over  the  Eebellious  Kings  o  33 

The  Knights  of  the  Bound  Table         ...  41 

Death  of  Arthur 50 

The  Death  of  Roland      ......  57 

The  Ballad  of  Chevy  Chase          ....  67 

Dick  Whittington  and  his  Cat      ....  76 

The  Heart  of  the  Bruce 90 

The  Story  of  Macbeth 99 

Prince  Edward  and  Adam  Gordon         .        .        .  115 

William  Tell .120 

A  Legend  of  Bregenz 138 

Richard,  the  Lion-Hearted 147 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/balladstalesfourOOhaarrich 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


HEN   Robiu    Hood   was   about   twenty 
years  old, 
He  happened  to  meet  Little  John, 
A  jolly  brisk  blade,  right  fit  for  the  trade, 
For  he  was  a  lusty  young  man. 


8  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Though  he  was  called  little,  his  limbs  they  were 
large, 

And  his  stature  was  seven  foot  high ; 
Wherever  he  came,  they  quaked  at  his  name, 

For  soon  he  would  make  them  to  fly. 

How  they  came  acquainted  I'll  tell  you  in  brief ^ 

If  you  would  but  listen  awhile ; 
For  this  very  jest,  among  all  the  rest, 

I  think,  may  cause  you  to  smile. 

For  Robin  Hood  said  to  his  jolly  bowmen, 
"Pray  tarry  you  here  in  this  grove. 

And  see  that  you  all  observe  well  my  call. 
While  through  the  forest  I  rove. 

"We've  had  no  sport  these  fourteen  long  days, 

Therefore  now  abroad  will  I  go ; 
Now  should  I  be  beat,  and  cannot  retreat. 

My  horn  I  will  presently  blow." 

Then    did    he    shake    hands    with    his    merry    men 
all, 

And  bid  them  at  present  good-by ; 
Then  as  near  a  brook  his  journey  he  took, 

A  stranger  he  chanced  so  espy. 


BALLADS  AND  TALElS.  9 

They  happened  to  meet  on  a  long  narrow  bridge, 
And  neither  of  them  would  give  way; 

Quoth  bold  Robin  Hood,  and  sturdily  stood, 
"I'll  show  you  right  Nottingham  play." 

With  that  from  his  quiver  an  arrow  he  drew, 
A  broad  arrow  with  a  goose  wing; 

The  stranger  replied,  "I'll  liquor"^  thy  hide, 
If  thou  offer  to  touch  the  string." 

Quoth  bold   Robin    Hood,  "Thou  dost    prate  like 
an  ass, 
For,  were  I  to  bend  but  my  bow, 
I    could    send    a    dart    quite    through    thy    proud 
heart. 
Before  thou  could'st  strike  me  one  blow." 

"  Thou  talk'st  like  a  coward,"  the  stranger  replied ; 

"Well  armed  with  your  long  bow  you  stand, 
To  shoot  at  my  breast,  while  I,  I  protest, 

Have  naught  but  a  staff  in  my  hand." 

"  The  name  of  a  coward,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  scorn, 
Therefore  my  long  bow  I'll  lay  by; 

And  now,  for  thy  sake,  a  staff  will  I  take, 
The  truth  of  thy  manhood  to  try." 

*  Moisten,  drench. 


10  BALLADS  AND  TALES, 

Then  Robin  Hood  stepped  to  a  thicket  of  trees, 
And  chose  him  a  staff  of  ground  oak ; 

Now  this  being  done,  away  he  did  run 
To  the  stranger,  and  merrily  spoke : 


"  Lo  !    see  my  staff  is  lusty  and  tough ; 

Now  here  on  the  bridge  we  will  play; 
Whoever  falls  in,  the  other  shall  win 

The  battle,  and  so  we'll  away." 


"  With  all  my  whole  heart ! "  the  stranger  replied ; 

"I  scorn  in  the  least  to  give  out." 
This  said,  they  fell  to  't  without  more  dispute. 

And  their  staffs  they  did  flourish  about. 


At  first  Robin  gave  the  stranger  a  bang, 
So  hard  that  he  made  his  bones  ring; 

The  stranger  he  said,  "This  must  be  repaid; 
I'll  give  }^ou  as  good  as  you  bring. 


"So  long  as  I'm  able  to  handle  a  staff, 
To  die  in  your  debt,  friend,  I  scorn." 

Then  to  it  each  goes,  and  followed  their  blows^ 
As  if'  they  had  been  threshing  of  corn. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  11 

The  stranger  gave  Robin  a  crack  on  the  crown, 
Which  caused  the  blood  to  appear; 

Then  Robin  enraged  more  fiercely  engaged, 
And  followed  his  blows  more  severe. 

So  thick  and  so  fast  did  he  lay  it  on  him, 

With  a  passionate  fury  and  ire, 
At  every  stroke  he  made  him  to  smoke. 

As  if  he  had  been  all  on  fire. 

O  then  in  a  fury  the  stranger  he  grew, 

And  gave  him  a  terrible  look ; 
Then  dealt  him  a  blow,  which  laid  him  full  low, 

And  tumbled  him  into  the  brook. 

"  I  prithee,  good  fellow,  O  where  art  thou  now  ? " 

The  stranger,  in  laughter,  he  cried ; 
Quoth    bold    Robin    Hood,    "  Good    faith !    in   the 
flood. 

And  floating  along  with  the  tide. 

"I    needs    must    acknowledge   thou    art    a   brave 
soul, 

With  thee  I'll  no  longer  contend; 
For  needs  must  I  say  thou  hast  got  the  day. 

Our  battle  shall  be  at  an  end." 


12  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Then  unto  the  bank  he  did  presently  wade, 

And  pulled  him  out  by  a  thorn  ; 
Which  done,  at  the  last  he  blew  a  loud  blast 

Straightway  on  his  fine  bugle   horn : 

The  echo  of  which  thro'  the  valleys  did  fly, 
At  which  his   stout  bowmen  appeared, 

All  clothM  in  green,  most  gay  to  be  seen; 
So  up  to  their  master  they  steered. 

"  O,  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  quoth  Will  Stutely, 
"  Good  master,  you're  wet  to  the  skin  ! " 

"  No  matter,"  quoth  he,  ''  the  lad  which  you  see, 
In  fighting  hath  tumbled  me  in." 

"He  shall  not  go  scot-free,"  the  others  replied. 
So  straight  they  were  seizing  him  there, 

To  duck  him  likewise,  but  Robin  Hood  cries, 
"  He  is  a  stout  fellow ;  forbear ! 

"  There's  no  one    shall    wrong  thee,  friend,  be  not 
afraid ; 
These  bowmeu  upon  me  do  wait : 
There's   three    score    and    nine ;     if    thou    Avilt    be 
mine, 
Thou  shalt    have  my  livery  straight, 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  13 

"And  other  accoutrements  fit  for  a  man: 

Speak  up,  Jolly  blade,  never  fear; 
I'll  teach  you  also  the  use  of  the  bow, 

To  shoot  at  the  fat  fallow  deer." 


"O,  here  is  my  hand,"  the  stranger  replied, 
"  I'll  serve  you  with  all  my  whole  heart : 

My  name  is  John  Little,  a  man  of  good  mettle; 
Ne'er  doubt  me,  for  I'll  play  my  part." 


"His  name  shall  be  altered,"  quoth  Will  Stutely, 

"  And  I  will  his  godfather  be ; 
Prepare  then  a  feast,  and  none  of  the  least, 

For  we  will  be  merry,"  quoth  he. 


They  presently  fetched  him  a  brace  of  fat  does, 
With  humming  strong  liquor  likewise  : 

They  loved  what  was  good ;  so  in  the  green  w^ood 
This  pretty  sweet  babe  they  baptized. 


He  was,  I  must  tell  you,  but  seven  feet  high. 
And   may  be  an  ell  in  the  waist ; 

A  sweet  pretty  lad;  much  feasting  they  had, 
Bold  Robin  the  christening  graced, 


u 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


With  all  his  bowmen,  which  stood  in  a  ring, 
And  were  of  the  Nottingham  breed. 

Brave  Stiitely  came 
then  with  seven 
yeomen, 
And  did  in  this 
manner  pro- 
ceed : 

"This   infant  was 
called      John 
Little,"     quoth 
he, 
"  Which  name  shall 
be    changed 
anon  : 
The  words  we'll  transpose ;  so  wherever  he  goes. 
His   name   shall   be  called  Little  John." 

They  all  with  a  shout   made  the  elements  ring, 

As  soon  as  the  office  was  o'er ; 
To  feasting  they  went,  with  true  merriment. 

Such  joy  was  ne'er  seen  before. 

Then  Robin  he  took  the  pretty  sweet  babe. 

And  clothed  him  from  top  to  toe 
In  garments  of  green,  most  gay  to  be  seen-, 

And  gave  him  a  curious  long  bow. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  15 

"Thou  shalt  be  an  archer  as  well  as  the  best, 
And  range  in  the  green  wood  with  us, 

Where  we'll  not  want  gold,  nor  silver,  behold. 
While  travelers  have  aught  in  their  purse. 

"We  live  here  like  squires  or  lords  of  renown. 

Without  e'er  a  foot  of  free  land; 
We  feast  on  good  cheer,  throughout  the  whole  year, 

With  everything  at  our  command." 

Then  music  and  dancing  did  furnish  the  day  : 
At  length,  when  the  sun  waned  low, 

Then  all  the  whole  train  their  grove  did  refrain, 
With  unto  their  caves  they  did  go. 

And  so  ever  after,  as  long  as  they  lived. 

Although  he  was  proper  and  tall. 
Yet,  nevertheless,  the  truth  to  express. 

Still  Little  John  they  did  him  call. 


THE   TRUE   AND   THE   FALSE   PRINCE. 

Once  there  was  a  king  of  Naples  who  was  so 
stern  and  cruel  that  his  subjects,  and  even  his  fam- 
ily, found  it  very  hard  to  retain  their  love  and 
respect  for  him.     This  king  had  a  son  named  Ros- 


16 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


wal,  who  was  beloved  by  everyone  because  of  his 
noble  and  generous  disposition.  One  day  while  the 
young  prince  was  passing  the  tower  he  heard  groans 
coming  from  the  dungeon  below.  On  inquiry  he 
learned  that  three  noble  lords  were  there,  con- 
demned to  life-long  imprisonment  for  having  re- 
fused to  obey  some  unreasonable  command  of  the 
king. 

This  grieved  the  tender-hearted  Roswal,  and  he 
determined  to  free  the  prisoners,  even  though  his 
act  should  provoke  his  father's  fiercest  anger.  Ob- 
serving that  the  keys 
of  the  prison  were  each 
night  placed  under  the 
king's  pillow,  Roswal 
watched  for  an  oppor- 
tunity, and  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  withdrawing 
them  while  his  father 
was  asleep.  Hastening 
to  the  dungeon,  he  re- 
leased the  prisoners, 
and  then  replaced  the 
keys  vdthout  disturbing  the  king. 

On  the  following  day  when  the  jailers  went  to 
the  dungeon  with  the  usual  supply  of  food  and 
water  for  the  prisoners,  they  were  astonished  to  find 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  17 

the  cells  vacant.  In  fear  and  trembling  they  re- 
ported the  fact  to  the  king,  who  was  convulsed  with 
rage.  In  a  moment  of  passion  he  vowed  that  who- 
ever had  aided  the  prisoners  to  escape  should  be 
put  to  death. 

An  investigation  was  at  once  begun,  but  nothing 
was  discovered.  No  one  suspected  Roswal,  but  he 
began  to  fear  that  perhaps  some  innocent  person 
might  suffer  for  his  act;  so  he  went  to  his  father 
and  confessed  what  he  had  done.  When  the  king 
learned  that  it  was  his  own  son  who  had  interfered 
with  his  plans  for  vengeance  his  anger  greatly  in- 
creased. For  a  long  time  neither  the  tears  of  the 
queen  nor  his  love  for  the  young  prince  could  in- 
duce the  king  to  recall  his  vow.  Finally  he  spared 
his  son's  life,  but  banished  him  from  Naples. 

The  king  ordered  his  high  steward,  who  was  one 
of  his  favorite  officers,  to  accompany  Roswal  as  a 
guardian  and  companion  during  his  exile.  This 
steward  was  very  fond  of  the  pleasures  of  a  life  at 
court,  and  did  not  relish  being  compelled  to  share 
the  banishment  of  the  young  prince.  As  soon  as 
they  left  Naples  he  began  to  upbraid  Roswal,  and 
to  blame  him  for  the  misfortunes  which  had  fallen 
upon  both.  To  these  complaints  Roswal  paid  no 
attention,  for  he  felt  that  no  matter  what  might  be- 
fall him,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  he 


18  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

had  restored  to  life  and  liberty  three  of  the  noblest 
men  in  the  kingdom. 

When  the  steward  saw  that  his  taunts  had  no 
effect  on  Koswal,  he  began  devising  some  plan  by 
which  he  could  turn  the  present  misfortunes  to  his 
own  advantage.  He  knew  that  the  king  had  given 
his  son  certain  letters  which  would  secure  him  a 
proper  reception  at  a  friendly  coiii't,  and  also  Jewels 
and  money  to  support  him  in  princely  style.  The 
steward  decided  that  he  would  get  possession  of  the 
papers  and  valuables  and  then  present  himself  at 
some  court  as  the  heir  to  the  crown  of  Naples. 
Having  thus  formed  his  plan,  he  watched  for  an 
opportunity  to  carry  it  out. 

One  day  Roswal  and  the  steward  were  traveling 
in  a  strange  region,  when  they  came  to  a  river,  and 
Roswal  stooped  to  drink  at  the  water's  edge.  The 
crafty  steward  saw  his  opportunity.  He  seized  the 
prince  by  the  heels  and  threatened  to  hurl  him  into 
the  river  if  he  did  not  give  up  the  papers  and 
treasure,  and  promise  never  to  reveal  what  had  oc- 
curred. Roswal  was  forced  to  yield.  The  steward 
secured  the  property  and  at  once  galloped  away, 
taking  Roswal's  horse  with  him. 

At  first  Roswal  was  overcome  with  grief,  but 
after  some  thouQ;ht  he  concluded  that  he  was  fortu- 
nate  in  escaping  from  such  an  evil  and  disagreeable 


BALLADS  AND   TALES. 


19 


companion.  Being  hungry  and  weary,  lie  began  to 
look  for  some  place  where  he  could  obtain  food  and 
shelter.  Before  long 
he  reached  a  comfort- 
able cottage  where  he 
was  kindly  received 
by  the  good  dame. 
She  questioned  him 
as  to  who  he  was 
and  whence  he  came. 
These  were  hard  ques- 
tions for  Roswal.  He 
could  not  tell  why  he 
had  been  driven  from 
home,  without  blaming  his  father.  He  could  not 
tell  who  he  was,  without  breaking  his  promise  to 
the  steward.  He  was  too  noble  to  blame  his  father 
or  break  his  promise,  so  he  simply  said  that  through 
misfortune  he  had  no  home  and  no  friends.  This 
satisfied  the  good  woman's  curiosity,  and  he  soon 
became  such  a  favorite  with  her  that  she  adopted 
him  as  a  companion  to  her  son.  Roswal  was  sent 
to  the  village  school,  and  here  he  astonished  every- 
one by  his  remarkable  knowledge.  The  fame  of  his 
talents  soon  spread,  and  a  nobleman  of  the  country 
took  him  to  court  as  his  page. 

At  court,  Roswal's  noble  cliaracter  and  learning 


20  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

won  for  him  many  friends,  and  lie  had  not  been 
there  many  days  when  He  was  appointed  cup-bearer 
to  the  king's  daughter,  the  Princess  Lilian,  a  beau- 
tiful girl  a  little  younger  than  himself. 

Meanwhile  the  treacherous  steward  had  not  been 
idle.  With  his  stolen  letters  he  had  presented  him- 
self as  the  Prince  of  Naples  at  the  same  court  to 
which  Roswal  afterwards  came  as  a  page.  By  his 
cunning  he  had  imposed  on  the  king  and  obtained 
the  promise  of  the  hand  of  his  daughter  in  marriage. 
Forthwith  an  embassy  had  been  sent  to  secure  the 
consent  of  the  King  of  Naples  to  the  marriage  of 
his  supposed  son. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  when  Roswal  reached 
the  court  as  the  nobleman's  page.  He  was  at  once 
recognized  by  the  false  prince,  who,  however,  was 
not  alarmed,  because  he  knew  that  Roswal  would 
not  break  his  promise.  In  the  course  of  time  the 
ambassadors  returned  from  Naples,  bearing  the  con- 
sent of  the  king,  and  soon  the  court  was  astir  with 
preparations  for  the  marriage. 

The  Princess  Lilian  did  not  rejoice  at  her  ap- 
proaching wedding,  for  she  disliked  the  false  prince, 
and  had  given  her  heart  to  her  young  cup-bearer. 
She  suspected  that  he  was  of  noble  birth,  but 
he  evaded  all  her  questions  regarding  himself. 

The   marriage   festivities  were   to   begin  with  a 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  21 

tournament,  into  wliicli  the  princess  begged  Roswal 
to  enter,  but  he  pleaded  ignorance  of  these  knightly 
contests.  Day  by  day  he  grew  more  moody  and 
silent.  When  the  morning  of  the  first,  tournament 
arrived,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  went  into  the 
forest  to  hunt,  so  that  he  might  not  witness  the  tri- 
umph of  his  enemy.  As  he  rode  sadly  along,  an 
old  knight  appeared,  leading  a  black  horse,  from 
the  saddle  of  which  a  suit  of  black  armor  was  hang- 
ing. "Prince,"  said  the  knight,  "put  on  this  armor, 
mount  this  horse,  and  repair  to  the  tournament. 
When  you  return  I  shall  be  here  with  your  bag 
filled  with  game." 

Roswal  put  on  the  armor,  leaped  upon  the  horse, 
and  rode  to  the  tourney.  He  entered  the  lists 
and  easily  overthrew  all  his  opponents.  He  then 
charged  upon  the  false  prince,  who  became  so 
stricken  with  fear  that  he  was  unable  to  defend 
himself.  Roswal  generously  spared  his  enemy, 
saluted  the  assembly,  and  rode  away.  The  sud- 
den appearance  of  this  strange  knight,  and  his  easy 
victory  over  all  who  opposed  him,  greatly  astonished 
all ;  but  every  effort  to  learn  who  he  was,  or  whence 
he  came,  proved  useless. 

The  next  day  Roswal  again  went  into  the  forest 
to  hunt.  This  time  he  met  a  second  knight,  dressed 
like  his  friend  of  the  previous  day,  but  leading  a 


22 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


gray  horse.  He  gave  the  horse  and  a  suit  of  gray 
armor  to  Roswal,  instructing  him  to  again  enter 
the  lists.  The  cowardly  steward,  made  bold  by  the 
absence  of  .the  knight  on  the  black  steed,  hastened 


i\jdi^^Jio^^'A^ 


to  attack  the  new  knight,  but  with  no  better  suc- 
cess than  that  of  the  day  before.  After  eclipsing 
all  the  contestants  by  his  deeds  of  valor,  the  gray 
knight  disappeared  suddenly,  and  left  the  court  in 
such  a  high  state  of  excitement  and  curiosity  that 
the  king  promised  an  earldom  to  the  man  who  could 
find  the  strange  knight. 


BALLADS   AND   TALES.  23 

While  no  one  could  solve  the  mystery,  Princess 
Lilian  thought  she  detected  a  strong  resemblance 
between  the  two  strange  knights  and  Roswal ;  yet 
how  was  it  that  Roswal  returned  both  evenings 
with  his  game-bag  full  ? 

On  the  third  day  another  knight  met  Roswal  in 
the  forest,  and  delivered  to  him  a  bay  horse,  a  red 
shield,  green  armor,  and  golden  helmet.  Thus  goi*- 
geously  equipped,  he  joined  the  festivities,  and  by 
his  wonderful  feats  conquered  all  antagonists.  He 
then  tossed  a  gold  ring  into  the  lap  of  the  princess 
and  rode  away.  When  he  reached  the  forest  he 
found  the  three  knights  awaiting  him.  They  told 
him  that  they  were  the  three  noblemen  whom  he 
had  released  from  his  father's  dun^^eon. 

They  knew  the  story  of  his  exile,  and  assured 
him  that  the  fair  princess  should  not  become  the 
wife  of  the  wicked  impostor.  Roswal  returned  to 
court  more  hopeful  than  before. 

The  next  day  was  fixed  for  the  wedding.  The 
guests  were  assembled  in  the  palace,  and  the  cere- 
mony was  about  to  begin,  when  suddenly  three 
magnificently  dressed  strangers  entered  the  spacious 
hall,  and  bowed  before  the  king  and  his  daughter, 
without  appearing  to  notice  the  steward.  They 
announced  that  they  were  nobles  from  the  court  of 
Naples.     Before  they  proceeded    further   the  king 


24 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


rebuked  them,  and  asked  in  angry  tones  why  they 
had  not  saluted  their  prince,  the  heir  to  the  throne 
of  Naples.  They  responded  that  they  did  not  see 
the  Prince  of  Naples  in  the  hall.  At  that  moment 
Roswal  entered.  The  three  noblemen  fell  on  their 
knees  before  him  and  kissed  his  hand,  showing 
great  love  and  respect  for  him. 

Great  was  the  aston- 
r.^^  ishment  when  the  nobles 

told  their  story,  and  the 
king  learned  that  Ros- 
wal   was    not   only  the 
true  prince,  but  also  the 
knight  who  had  shown 
such    courage     on    the 
three  days  of  the  tourna- 
ment.    The  false  prince 
confessed  his  treachery, 
and  was  hurried    away 
to  life-long  imprisonment.     Roswal,  who  had  loved 
the  princess  from  the  first,  now  claimed  her  hand, 
and  the  wedding  was  celebrated  that  day. 

Thus  did  the  true  prince  at  last  regain  his  rank. 
In  after  years,  as  King  of  Naples,  he  won  the  love 
and  respect  of  his  subjects,  and  was  known  far  and 
near  as  a  just  and  charitable  sovereign. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


25 


I  EVEN  daughters  had  Lord  Archibald, 
All  children  of  one  mother; 
I  could  not  say  in  one  short  day 

What  love  they  bore  each  other. 
A  garland  of  seven  lilies  w^rought ! 

Seven  sisters  that  together  dwell ; 
But  he,  bold  knight  as  ever  fought, 
Their  father,  took  of  them  no  thought. 

He  loved  the  Avars  so  well. 
8ing^  mournfully^  oh  !  mournfully ^ 
The  solitude  of  Binnorie! 


26  BALLADS   AND   TALES. 

Fresh  blows  the  wind,  a  western  windp 

And  from  the  shores  of  Erin, 
Across  the  wave,  a  rover  brave 

To  Binnorie  is  steering; 
Right  onward  to  the  Scottish  strand 

The  gallant  ship  is  borne ; 
The  warriors  leap  upon  the  land, 
And  hark !    the  leader  of  the  band 

Hath  blown  his  bugle  horn. 
Sing^  mournfully^  oh  !  mournfully^ 
The  solitude  of  Binnorie! 

Beside  a  grotto  of  their  own, 

With  boughs  above  them  closing. 
The  seven  are  laid,  and  in  the  shade 

They  lie  like  fawns  reposing. 
But  now,  upstarting  with  affright 

At  noise  of  man  and  steed, 
Away  they  fly  to  left,  to  right — 
Of  your  fair  household,  father  knight^ 

Me  thinks  you  take  small  heed  I 
Sing^  mournfully^  oh!  mournfully, 
The  solitude  of  Binnorie! 

Some  close  behind,  some  side  by  side, 
Like  clouds  in  stormy  weather, 

They  run,  and  cry,  "Now  let  us  die, 
And  let  us  die  together." 


BALLADS   AND  TALES.  2? 

A  lake  was  near;  the  shore  was  steep; 

There  never  foot  had  been; 
They  ran,  and  with  a  desperate  leap 
Together  plunged  into  the  deep, 

Nor  evermore  were  seen. 
Sing^  mournfully^  oh  !  mournfully j 
The  solitude  of  Binnorie! 

The  stream  that  flows  out  of  the  lake, 

As  through  the  glen  it  rambles, 
Repeats  a  moan  o'er  moss  and  stone, 

For  those  seven  lovely  Campbells. 
Seven  little  islands,  green  and  bare. 

Have  risen  from  out  the  deep. 
The  fishers  say,  those  sisters  fair 
By  fairies  all  are  buried  there. 

And  there  together  sleep. 
Sing^  mournfully^  oh  !  mournfully^ 
The  solitude  of  Binnorie! 

— W.  Words  WORTH. 

LEGEND   OF   KING   ARTHUR. 

Arthur,  the  great  hero  of  romance,  was  the  son 
of  Uther  Pendragon,  or  Dragon's  Head,  king  of 
all  England.  At  the  birth  of  the  prince,  Merlin 
the  magician  came  to  the  king,  and  begged  to  be 


28 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


allowed   to   take    the  child,  to    train    him    for   the 
duties  of   a  king.     The   request  was   granted  and 

the  child  was  given  to 
Merlin,  who  had  him 
baptized  under  the  name 
of  Arthur.  He  was  then 
placed  in  care  of  Sir 
Ector,  an  esteemed 
knight,  and  his  lady,  and 
brought  up  as  their  son. 
No  person  but  Merlin, 
King  Uther,  and  the 
mother.  Queen  Igraine, 
knew  the  secret  of  Arthur's  birth,  and  even  the 
Queen  did  not  know  what  had  become  of  him. 

While  Arthur  was  still  a  boy  his  father  died 
and  the  country  was  thus  left  without  a  king. 
Uther  at  the  time  of  his  death  was  supposed  to 
be  childless,  and  Arthur  was  regarded  as  the 
son  of  Sir  Ector.  Many  of  the  lords  were  am- 
bitious, and,  as  they  were  brave  and  powerful,  it 
looked  as  though  the  kingdom  would  be  broken 
up  by  internal  strife.  But  Merlin  was  wise  and 
the  people  respected  him ;  and  he  requested  the 
archbishop  of  Canterbury  to  summon  all  the  lords 
to  London  on  Christmas  Day.  The  archbishop 
did   so,  and   there  was  a  large  assembly   of   lords 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  29 

and  their  retainers  in  the  great  church  of  Canter- 
bury. 

Outside  the  church,  on  the  side  nearest  the  altar, 
a  large  stone  had  been  seen  that  morning,  and 
upon  it  was  a  steel  anvil,  in  which  was  stuck,  al- 
most to  the  hilt,  a  glittering  sword.  On  the  anvil 
were  written  in  letters  of  gold  the  w^ords,  "  Whoso 
pulleth  out  this  sword  is  true-born  king  of  all 
England."  After  the  service  in  the  church,  the 
lords  and  people  crowded  around  the  stone  in 
wonder  and  surprise.  Many  lords  tried  to  pull 
out  the  weapon,  but  they  could  not. 

"The  man  is  not  here,"  said  the  archbishop, 
"  who  shall  draw  out  this  sword,  but  I  doubt  not 
God  will  make  him  known." 

It  was  then  announced  that  a  further  trial  would 
be  given  on  New  Year''s  Day,  and  that  all  who 
wished  might  try  to  draw  out  the  sword. 

On  New  Year's  Day  the  lords  and  people  assem- 
bled again,  and  among  them  were  Sir  Ector, 
Arthur's  foster-father,  and  his  son,  Sir  Kay.  Again 
many  tried  to  pull  out  the  sword,  but  in  vain. 
Then  a  tournament  was  held  in  which  there  were 
encounters  between  many  brave  knights.  In  one 
of  these  encounters  the  sword  of  Sir  Kay,  the 
foster-brother  of  Arthur,  was  broken,  and  Arthur 
was  sent  for  another  weapon.     Passing  the  church, 


30  BALLADS  AND  TALKS. 

and  seeing  the  sword  stuck  in  the  anvil,  lie  ad- 
vanced, and  easily  drew  out  the  weapon.  Then  he 
took  it  to  Sir  Kay,  who,  knowing  it  well,  rode  to  Sir 
Ector,  and  said  :  "  Lo,  here  is  the  sword  of  the  stone." 

Sir  Ector  asked  Sir  Kay  who  gave  him  the  sword. 
"  My  brother  Arthur,"  said  he,  "  gave  it  to  me." 

"  How  got  you  this  sword  ?  "  said  Sir  Ector  to 
Arthur. 

"  When  my  brother  Sir  Kay  sent  me  for  a  sword, 
I  passed  by  the  church,  and  seeing,  this  sticking  in 
an  anvil  of  steel  set  on  a  large  stone,  I  drew  it 
forth." 

"'  Found  you  any  knights  about  the  weapon  ? " 

"  Nay,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Now,"  said  Sir  Ector,  "  must  you  be  king  of  this 
land ;  for  else  you  could  never  have  drawn  out 
this  sword.  Let  us  go  to  the  church,  and  see  whether 
you  can  put  the  sword  w^here  it  was  and  pull  it  out 
again." 

They  advanced  to  the  church,  and  Arthur  put  the 
sword  into  the  anvil.  Then  Sir  Ector  tried  to  pull 
it  out  and  failed.     Likewise  Sir  Kay  tried  and  failed. 

"  Now  try  you,"  said  Sir  Ector  to  Arthur. 

Arthur  pulled  it  out  easily.  Thereupon  Sir  Ector 
and  Sir  Kay  kneeled  down  to  the  earth. 

"  Alas !  mine  own  dear  father  and  brother,  why 
kneel  ye  to  me  ? "  cried  Arthur. 


BALLADS   AND   TALES.  31 

'"  Nay,  nay,  my  lord  Arthur,"  answered  Sir  Ector, 
"  I  am  not  your  father.  Merlin  brought  you  to 
us,  and  we  adopted  you  without  knowing  any- 
thing of  your  parentage.  Now  I  know  that  you 
are  of  I'oyal  blood." 

Then  Sir  Ector,  taking  Sir  Kay  and  Arthur  with 
him,  went  to  the  archbishop  and  told  him  every- 
thing. Just  then  Merlin  entered  the  room  and 
declared  that  Arthur  was  Uther's  son.  The  arch- 
bishop counselled  them  to  silence,  and  then  an- 
nounced to  the  lords  and  people  that  a  further  trial 
would  be  given  on  Twelfth  Day."^ 

On  Twelfth  Day  the  knights  assembled  again. 
But  of  all  that  made  the  attempt  none  could  draw 
out  the  sword  but  Arthur.  Then  the  lords  were 
angry,  and  said  that  it  would  be  a  shame  to  them 
and  to  the  realm  to  be  governed  by  a  boy  who  was  not 
of  royal  birth.  They  then  agreed  that  the  sword 
should  be  put  back,  and  another  trial  was  set  down 
for  Candlemas  Day.f  In  the  meantime  ten  knights 
were  appointed  to  w^atch  the  sword  day  and  night. 

Candlemas  Day  arrived,  and  again  a  great  many 
knights  made  the  attempt  to  withdraw  the  sword. 
They  all  failed,  but  Arthur  again  drew  it  forth  with 
the  greatest  ease. 

*  Twelfth  day  after  Christinas,  January  6th. 
t  February  2d. 


32 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


1 


Much  chagrined,  the  lords  demanded  a  further 
trial  on  Easter  Day.  It  was  granted,  and  as  Arthur 
had  done  before,  so  did  he  at  Easter.  Still  indig- 
nant that  Arthur  should  be  king,  the  lords  insisted 


^% 


'>.3' 


W)^\^\A\\\A 


\ 


that  a  fifth  trial  be  set  down  for  Pentecost.*  Then, 
lest  some  attempt  should  be  made  on  Arthur's  life, 
the  archbishop,  by  Merlin's  advice,  selected  a  num- 
ber of  knights  Avho  had  been  most  loved  and  trusted 

*  Seventh  Sunday  after  Easter. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  33 

by  Utlier,  and  placed  them  as  a  guard  about  Arthur. 
To  them  the  secret  of  his  parentage  had  been  told, 
and  they  remained  constantly  with  him  till  the  feast 
of  Pentecost. 

At  Pentecost  again  none  but  Arthur  could  draw 
forth  the  sword.  Then  the  people,  disregarding 
the  wishes  of  the  lords,  cried  out  with  one  voice : 
'^  Arthur  shall  be  our  king !  We  will  have  no 
further  delay !  It  is  God's  will  that  he  should  reign 
over  us ! " 

The  lords  now  fell  on  their  knees  before  Arthur, 
and  craved  mercy  for  having  opposed  him  so  long. 
He  freely  forgave  them,  and  laying  the  sword  on 
the  altar,  w^as  crowned  king  by  the  archbishop. 
Arthur  swore  to  be  a  true  king,  and  to  administer 
the  affairs  of  his  kingdom  with  justice. 


ARTHUR'S     VICTORIES      OVER     THE 
REBELLIOUS   KINGS. 

As  soon  as  Arthur  was  seated  on  the  throne  of 
England  the  many  wrongs  that  had  been  done 
since  the  death  of  King  Uther  were  righted,  lands 
unjustly  taken  were  restored  to  their  OAvners,  and 
peace  was  established  among  the  contending  lords 
around  London.     The  young  king  chose  wise  coun- 

3 


34  BALLADS   AND   TALES. 

cillors  and  administrators,  and  in '  a  few  years  he 
won .  to  his  service  nearly  all  the  north  country,  as 
well  as  Scotland  and  a  large  part  of  Wales. 

Then  Arthur  entered  Wales,  and  proclaimed  a 
great  feast,  after  which  he  was  to  be  crowned  King 
of  Wales  at  Caerleon.*  Before  he  reached  that 
city,  he  heard  that  six  kings  from  the  north 
country  had  assembled  there  with  twenty-eight 
hundred  knights.  He  was  filled  with  joy,  and  sent 
messengers  loaded  with  costly  gifts  to  greet  them. 

But  the  kings  rejected  the  gifts  and  spurned  the 
messengers,  saying :  "  We  desire  no  gifts  from  a 
beardless  boy  of  base  origin.  Instead  of  receiving 
gifts  of  gold  and  silver,  we  intend  to  bestow  gifts 
with  swords  of  well-tempered  steel.  Tell  your  low- 
born king  his  head  is  forfeit  to  us !  " 

When  this  message  was  brought  to  King  Arthur, 
he  prepared  for  a  siege,  gathering  his  knights  about 
him,  and  collecting  provisions.  Meanwhile  Merlin 
visited  the  hostile  kings  in  the  city  of  Caerleon, 
and  tried  to  win  them  over. 

"  Why,"  said  they,  "  have  you  made  that  boy 
Arthur  your  king  ?  " 

"  Because,"  answered  the  wizard,  "  he  is  the  son 
of  Uther  Pendragon  and  his  wife  Igraine.     He  is 

*  Pronounced  kar-l5'-on. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  35 

now  king,  and  he  shall  overcome  all  his  enemies.  Ere 
long  he  shall  have  subject  to  him  Wales,  Ireland, 
Scotland,  and  more  realms  than  I  can  now  recall." 

Some  of  the  kings  jeered  at  Merlin,  but  others 
marvelled  at  his  words.  All,  however,  agreed  that 
Arthur  should  come  and  speak  with  them,  and 
assurance  of  safe  conduct  was  given. 

Arthur  consented  to  parley  with  the  kings,  and 
rode  forth,  accompanied  only  by  the  archbishop  of 
Canterbury  and  three  knights. 

At  the  meeting,  stormy  words  were  spoken  on 
both  sides.  King  Arthur  finally  declared  that  he 
would  make  the  rebellious  kings  bow  to  his  rule, 
and  departed. 

"  What  will  you  do  ? "  said  Merlin  to  the  six 
kings.  ^'It  would  be  wise  to  submit,  for  though 
your  numbers  were  ten  times  as  great  as  they  are 
yet  shall  you  not  prevail." 

But  they  only  laughed  at  the  wizard.  With  that 
he  departed,  and  came  to  King  Arthur.  Soon  three 
hundred  of  the  bravest  knights  deserted  the  kings 
and  joined  Arthur.  Merlin  urged  him  to  prepare 
for  a  fierce  battle,  and  enjoined  him  not  to  use  the 
sword  he  had  gained  so  miraculously  unless  he  were 
sorely  pressed.  "  Then  draw  it,"  said  Merlin,  "  and 
do  your  best." 

So   King  Arthur  rode   forth  at  the   head  of  his 


36  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

knights.  Wonderful  were  the  feats  of  arms  done 
that  day.  Arthur  astonished  the  opposing  kings 
by  his  deeds  of  valor.  At  last  three  of  them 
closed  in  on  the  youthful  hero,  slew  his  horse,  and 
struck  him  down.  When  they  were  about  to  kill 
him,  he  drew  forth  his  marvellous  sword,  which 
was  called  Excalibur.  As  he  wielded  it,  the  blade 
flashed  so  in  the  eyes  of  his  enemies  that  they  were 
dazzled,  and  to  escape  its  beams  they  spurred  on 
their  steeds.  This  was  the  signal  for  retreat,  and 
the  people  of  Caerleon,  armed  with  clubs  and  staves, 
joined  in  the  pursuit,  and  slew  many  knights.  Then 
Arthur  entered  Caerleon  in  triumph. 

There  the  victorious  knights  feasted  and  held  a 
grand  tournament,  in  which  they  vied  with  one 
another  in  deeds  of  arms.  King  Arthur  soon  pro- 
ceeded to  London,  and  called  his  lords  together  in 
council.  Merlin,  too,  was  present,  and  he  announced 
that  the  six  kings  had  only  withdrawn  to  recruit 
their  forces,  and  that  they  had  rallied  to  their 
assistance  five  other  kings.  The  united  forces  of 
the  rebellious  kings  and  their  allies  numbered  fifty 
thousand  horse  and  ten  thousand  footmen. 

"  Send,  therefore,"  said  Merlin,  "  to  the  kings  of 
Ben  wick  and  Gaul,  Ban  and  Bors,  and  entreat  alli- 
ance with  them.  I  will  be  your  messenger,  if  you 
will  send  two  trusty  knights  with  me." 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  37 

All  was  done  as  Merlin  liad  desired,  and  the 
three  departed.  News  came  every  day  of  the 
power  of  the  enemy,  and  an  ordinance  was  made 
that  no  man  of  war  should  be  allowed  to  travel 
through  Arthur's  country  without  a  passport  from 
the  King. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  two  who  had  accom- 
panied Merlin  returned  with  Kings  Ban  and  Bors 
and  three  hundred  brave  knights.  Merlin  re- 
mained behind,  to  lead  through  secluded  ways 
the  forces  of  the  kings  of  Benwick  and  Gaul,  to 
the  number  of  ten  thousand  horse. 

Arthur's  army  now  numbered  twenty  thousand, 
ten  thousand  of  his  own  men  in  the  castle  of 
Bedegraine,  and  ten  thousand  allies  in  the  neigh- 
boring forest. 

By  Merlin's  advice,  scouts  were  sent  to  scour  the 
country.  They  met  scouts  of  the  enemy,  and  from 
them  learned  which  way  their  force  was  advanc- 
ing. When  this  was  told  to  Arthur,  he,  by  the 
advice  of  Ban  and  Bors,  devasted  the  whole  country 
through  which  the  hostile  kings  were  to  pass. 

Soon  the  enemy  arrived,  and  began  to  besiege  the 
castle  of  Bedegraine.  Again  the  advice  of  Merlin 
was  sought.  "  Let  Kings  Ban  and  Bors  be  hid  in 
ambush,"  said  he,  ''  and  do  you,  Arthur,  with  your 
ten  thousand  men,  give  battle  to  the  foe.     When 


38 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


you  >  have  fought  long,  then  let  those  in  ambush 
rush  out,  fresh  and  eager  for  the  fray,  and  they 
will  do  deadly  work." 

The  three  kings  and  the  lords  said  that  Merlin 
advised  well,  and  so  it  was  done. 

When  the  two  armies  stood  face  to  face,  the 
enemy  were  glad  to  see  how  greatly  they  outnum- 
bered Arthur's  men,  and  they  waited  for  the  attack. 

On  came  Arthur,  at  the 
head  of  his  knights, 
and  they  fought  like 
lions.  The  knights  of 
the  enemy  were  also 
brave  men,  and  they 
thrust  and  hewed  as 
had  never  been  seen 
before.  Arthur  rode 
here  and  there,  on  the 
right  hand  and  on  the 
left,  and  rested  not  till  he  had  slain  twenty 
knights.  His  example  was  imitated  by  the  brave 
Sir  Kay  and  Sir  Ector,  as  well  as  by  many  others 
of  his  followers. 

Then  King  Lot,  one  of  the  rebellious  kings,  said 
to  the  others :  ''  Unless  ye  do  as  I  advise,  we  shall 
all  be  slain.  Let  five  of  us  and  fifteen  thousand 
men  stand  apart  while  the  rest  continue  the  battle. 


BALLADS   AND  TALES.  39 

Then,  wlien  ye  have  fought  long,  we  will  rush  on 
in  your  places." 

They  agreed  to  this,  but  when  Lot  and  the  other 
kings  who  were  with  him  stood  apart,  they  were 
attacked  by  troops  of  King  Arthur  that  were  in 
ambush.  Then  King  Lot,  espying  King  Bors,  cried 
out  :  "  O  defend  us  !  for  I  see  yonder  one  of  the 
best  knights  in  the  world." 

"  Who  is  he  ? "  asked  one  of  the  kings. 

"  King  Bors  of  Gaul,"  replied  Lot.  "  How  came 
he  here  without  our  knowledge  ?  It  must  have 
been  by  Merlin's  advice." 

Lot  then  attacked  King  Bors's  force  with  great 
energy,  but  when  he  looked  up  from  the  havoc  he 
was  making  around  him,  he  saw  King  Ban  ad- 
vancing. 

"  We  are  indeed  lost  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  We  are 
now  attacked  by  the  most  valiant  knight  in  the 
world." 

King  Ban  came  into  the  battle  so  fiercely  that  his 
strokes  resounded  from  wood  and  water,  and  King 
Lot  wept  for  pity  when  he  saw  so  many  of  his 
good  knights  come  to  an  untimely  end.  He  made 
his  way  to  the  other  ten  kings  and  said  :  "  Lords, 
unless  we  send  off  our  footmen,  and  get  our  horse- 
men close  together  to  cover  up  their  flight,  we  are 
undone." 


40  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

They  then  withdrew  over  the  river. 

At  this  Merlin  came  to  Arthur  and  said:  ^^ With- 
draw your  men  now  to  your  camp  and  rest.  Re- 
ward your  good  knights  with  gold  and  with  silver, 
for,  though  they  are  few  in  number,  there  were 
never  men  who  did  better  work  than  they  have 
done  this  day.  You  have  matched  with  the  best 
fighters  of  the  world." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Kings  Ban  and  Bors. 

"Withdraw  where  you  list,"  continued  Merlin. 
"For  three  years  they  shall  not  dare  to  attack 
you.  These  kings  have  more  on  hand  than  they 
are  aware  of,  for  the  Saracens  have  landed  in  their 
countries,  and  are  destroying  their  villages.  Let 
all  the  goods  taken  in  this  battle  be  given  freely 
to  these  two  kings.  Ban  and  Bors,  that  they  may 
properly  reward  their  followers." 

"  It  is  well  advised,"  said  Arthur ;  "  and  so  shall 
it  be." 

Then  King  Arthur  and  Kings  Ban  and  Bors 
departed,  and  on  the  way  they  rescued  King  Leo- 
degrance  from  his  enemy  King  Rience.  And  there 
Arthur  saw  for  the  first  time  Guinever,*  the  daugh- 
ter of  King  Leodegrance.  Then  he  wished  to  ac- 
company Kings  Ban  and  Bors  to  their  own  coun- 

*  Pronounced  gwin'e-v5r. 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  41 

try,  to  requite  the  service  they  had  rendered  him. 
But  they  would  not  allow  him,  saying  that  there 
was  still  much  for  him  to  do  in  his  own  land. 

So  they  departed,  and  it  happened  as  Merlin  had 
foretold.  The  eleven  kings  did  not  trouble  Arthur 
again,  and  he  was  free  to  put  down  all  rebellious 
outbreaks  in  other  parts  of  his  kingdom. 

THE  KNIGHTS  OF  THE  EOUND  TABLE. 

One  day.  King  Arthur  said  to  Merlin  :  "  My  lords 
continually  urge  me  to  take  a  wife,  and  I  desire 
thy  counsel." 

''  Well,"  answered  Merlin ;  "  a  man  of  your  rank 
and  age  should  not  be  without  a  wife.  Is  there 
anj^  one  that  you  love  more  than  another  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  I  love  Guinever,  the 
daughter  of  King  Leodegrance,  who  has  in  his 
house  the  Bound  Table  given  to  him  by  my  father, 
as  you  told  me." 

Then  Merlin  requested  an  escort  of  twenty-five 
knights,  that  he  might  go  and  ask  the  hand  of 
Guinever.  These  were  given,  and  Merlin  went 
forth  to  Leodegrance,  and  told  him  of  Arthur's 
love  for  his  daughter. 

^^  This  is  to  me  the  best  tidings  I  have  heard,"  said 
Leodegrance.      "I  would  give  a  part  of  my  lands 


42  BALLADS   AND   TALES. 

with  my  daughter,  did  I  not  know  that  he  has  lands 
enough,  but  I  shall  send  him  a  gift  that  will  please 
him  much  more.  He  shall  have  the  Round  Table 
given  me  by  Uther  Pendragon,  at  which  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  knights  may  find  seats.  I  lack  fifty 
knights,  but  he  shall  have  the  hundred  that  I  now 
have." 

When  King  Arthur  heard  of  the  coming  of  Guin- 
ever  and  the  hundred  knights  with  the  Round 
Table,  he  rejoiced,  and  said:  "This  fair  lady  is 
indeed  welcome,  for  I  have  loved  her  long.  And 
these  knights  w  ith  the  Round  Table  please  me  more 
than  great  riches." 

Then,  having  ordered  preparations  for  the  mar- 
riage and  coronation  with  all  possible  grandeur,  he 
said  to  Merlin  : — 

"Go  and  find  for  me,  in  all  this  land,  fifty 
knights  of  the  greatest  valor  and  goodness." 

But  Merlin  could  not  find  more  than  twenty- 
eight.  These  were  brought  in  and  the  archbishop 
of  Canterbury  came  and  blessed  the  seats  at  the 
Table.  After  the  knights  had  done  homage  to 
King  Arthur,  each  found  his  name  written  in  let- 
ters of  gold  on  the  table  in  front  of  his  seat. 

The  wedding  of  the  King  and  the  fair  Guinever 
was  celebrated  with  much  solemnity,  and  the  cere- 
mony concluded  with  the  coronation  of  the  Queen. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  43 

Then  two  knights  were  added  to  the  hundred  and 
twenty-eight  ah^eady  seated  at  the  Round  Table, 
and  the  names  of  these  were  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir 
Tor.  The  other  twenty  places  were  left  vacant  for 
the  most  Avorthy  and  valiant  knights  to  be  found 
who  should  enter  upon  the  quest  of  the  Holy  Grail. "^ 

When  King  Arthur  beheld  his  hundred  and  thirty 
knights  at  the  Round  Table,  he  noticed  that  there 
were  no  seats  in  three  of  the  twenty  vacant  places. 

"  Why  is  this  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"In  two  of  the  places,"  answered  Merlin,  "none 
but  the  worthiest  knights  may  sit ;  the  place  between 
these  two  is  called  the  Siege  Perilous,  and  if  any 
knight,  however  worthy,  be  so  hardy  as  to  sit  in 
it,  save  him  for  whom  it  is  designed,  he  shall  die." 

Then  was  it  ordained  that  every  knight  should 
each  year  on  the  feast  of  Pentecost  be  present  in  his 
place  at  the  Round  Table,  and  that  many  jousts 
and  tournaments  should  then  be  held. 

Many  years  passed,  and  Arthur  ever  had  in  mind 
to  gather  round  him  the  best  knights  to  be  found 
in  his  whole  kingdom.  Wherever  a  knight  worthy 
by  reason  of  great  prowess  and  noble  character 
was  found,  Arthur  made  him  a  knight  of  the 
Round   Table.     Wherever    a   youth    of    exceeding 

*  The  Holy  Grail,  or  Sangreal,  was,  according  to  legend,  the  cup 
used  at  the  Last  Supper. 


44  BALLADS  AND   TALES. 

courage  and  high  honor  was  discovered,  Arthur 
had  him  proved  and  knighted,  and  seated  among 
the  knights  who  for  chivalry,  daring,  and  pious  de- 
votion had  nowhere  their  equal  in  the  entire  world. 

But  of  all  the  knights  that  were  admitted  to  the 
Round  Table,  none  was  braver  or  of  greater  prowess 
than  Sir  Launcelot.  Many  and  marvellous  were  his 
adventures,  and  he  was  held  in  high  esteem. 

And  of  all  the  knights  of  the  Round  Table  none 
was  purer  and  nobler  than  Sir  Percival.  Many 
were  his  acts  of  noble  chivalry,  and  wonderful, 
indeed,  was  his  pious  devotion. 

To  these  two  knights  were  assigned  the  places 
next  the  Siege  Perilous.  Now  were  all  the  places 
filled  at  the  Round  Table,  save  onlj^^  that  one  place, 
to  sit  in  which  was  death  to  any  but  him  for  whom 
it  was  designed.  One  hundred  and  forty-nine 
knights  they  were,  the  like  of  whom  had  never 
before  been  gathered  together. 

One  time,  as  the  feast  of  Pentecost  was  at  hand, 
and  all  the  knights  of  the  Round  Table  were  come 
to  Camelot,  there  arrived  a  fair  lady  on  horseback. 
She  alighted,  and  came  before  the  King. 

"  God  bless  thee,  damsel ! "  said  King  Arthur ; 
"  whom  seekest  thou  ? " 

"Sir,"  said  she,  "I  pray  you,  tell  me  where  Sir 
Launcelot  is." 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


45 


"  Yonder  is  he,"  said  the  King. 
Then  she  went  to. Sir  Laimcelot  and  said,  "Ire- 
quire  you  to  come  with  me  at  once." 
"  To  what  purpose  ?  "  asked  Launcelot. 


"  That  you  shall  know  when  you  come,"  replied 
she. 

Sir  Launcelot  bade  his  squire  saddle  his  horse 
and  bring  his  arms  ;  then  in  all  haste  he  followed  the 
lady.  They  rode  on  till  they  came  to  an  abbey. 
Twelve  nuns  came  forth  to  meet  them,  bringing  a 


46 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


j^outli  named  Galahad,  who  was  so  fair  and  manly 
that  in  all  the  world  there  coald  not  be  found  his 
equal. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  nuns  to  Launcelot,  "  we  bring  you 
here  this  youth,  whom  we  have  nourished,  and  we 
pray  you  to  make  him  a  knight ;  for  so  noble  and 
true  is  he  that  you  alone  of  all  the  knights  of.  the 
Round  Table  are  worthy  to  bestow  on  him  the 
order  of  knighthood." 

Sir   Launcelot,  looking  at  the  young  squire,  ac- 
knowledged that  he  had  never  seen  so  perfect  a  man. 
"  Comes  this  desire  from  himself  ? "    asked  he. 
The  ladies  and  the  youth  all  answered,  "  Yea." 

^^Then,"  said  Sir 
Launcelot,  "  if  he  prove 
himself,  he  shall  receive 
the  high  order  of 
knighthood  to-morrow." 
So  next  morning 
Galahad  proved  him- 
self, and  was  knighted 
by  Sir  Launcelot. 

"  Now,  fair  sir,"  said 
Sir  Launcelot,  "  will  you 
come  with  me  to  the  court  of  King  Arthur  ? " 

'^Nay,"  said  he,  "not  at  this  time  will  I  go  to 
the  court." 


BALLADS   AND   TALES.  47 

Then  Sir  Launcelot  departed  for  Camelot,  leaving 
the  newly  made  knight  behind. 

The  feast  of  Pentecost  was  duly  celebrated  in 
the  Cathedral.  When  the  King  and  the  knights 
returned  from  the  service  and  were  about  to  take 
their  places  at  the  Round  Table,  they  found  at 
the  Siege  Perilous  this  inscription  :  "  Four  hundred 
winters  and  fifty-four  after  the  Passion  of  our  Lord 
ought  this  seat  to  be  filled." 

"  This  is  marvellous  ! "    said  all  the  knights. 

"  It  seemeth  to  me,"  said  Sir  Launcelot,  "  that  this 
Siege  ought  to  be  filled  this  day,  for  it  is  the  feast 
of  Pentecost  in  the  four  hundred  and  fifty-fourth 
year.  If  it  please  you,  I  would  none  of  these  let- 
ters were  seen  by  others  than  ourselves  till  he 
come  that  is  to  occupy  this  place." 

Then  he  covered  the  place  with  a  silken  cloth, 
and  every  knight  took  his  own  seat,  and  all  were 
served  by  young  men  who  were  knights.  When 
the  knights  of  the  Round  Table  were  served,  all  the 
places  being  filled  save  only  the  Siege  Perilous, 
anon  there  happened  a  marvellous  thing.  All  the 
doors  and  windows  shut  of  themselves.  Then  there 
came  in  an  old  man,  clothed  all  in  white,  and  no 
one  knew  whence  he  came.  With  him  he  brought 
a  young  knight  without  sword  or  shield.  And 
the   two    came   to    the    Siege    Perilous,  beside    Sir 


48  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Launcelot  and  Sir  Percival,  and  lifting  up  the  clotli 
found  there  in  letters  of  gold  that  shone  brilliantly : 
"This  is  the  siege  of  Galahad,  the  noble  prince." 

So  the  good  man  departed,  and  all  the  knights  of 
the  Round  Table  marvelled  greatly  that  Sir  Gala- 
had, being  so  young,  dared  to  sit  in  that  Siege 
Perilous.  When  they  saw  that  he  was  the  one  for 
whom  the  place  had  been  designed,  their  wonder 
increased  the  more. 

The  feast  being  over,  the  King  went  to  the  Siege 
Perilous,  and  said  unto  Galahad :  "  Sir,  you  are  wel- 
come, for  you  shall  move  many  knights  to  the 
quest  of  the  Holy  Grail,  and  achieve  that  which  no 
knight  has  yet  succeeded  in  doing."  Then  taking 
him  by  the  hand,  the  King  said :  "  My  heart  is 
broken,  for  now  I  see  but  once  the  full  number  of 
my  brave  knights  seated  at  my  Table  Round.  It 
is  accomplished  as  has  been  foretold.  I  am  sure 
that  all  the  knights  of  the  Round  Table  will  soon 
depart  in  quest  of  the  Holy  Grail,  and  never  again 
shall  I  see  you  all  together.  Let  us  now  repair  to 
the  meadow  of  Camelot,  to  joust  and  to  tourney, 
that  after  your  death  men  may  speak  of  your  feats 
of  valor  and  prowess." 

All  agreed  to  this,  and  arrayed  themselves  for  the 
tournament.  Goodly  were  the  deeds  of  the  noble 
knights,    and  many  were  the   encounters  with  Sir 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  49 

Galahad,  who  so  broke  spears  that  all  men  won- 
dered at  him.  He  defeated  all  who  jousted  with 
him  but  two,  Sir  Launcelot  and  Sir  Percival. 

That  evening  at  supper,  every  knight  sat  in  his 
own  place  at  the  Round  Table.  Then  was  heard 
the  cracking  and  rolling  of  thunder,  and  in  the 
midst  there  entered  the  hall  a  sunbeam  clearer  by 
seven  times  than  any  seen  by  day.  Every  knight 
looked  at  his  neighbor,  and  saw  him  fairer  and  more 
beautiful  than  ever  before.  None  spoke  to  the 
other,  and  all  looked  as  though  they  were  dumb. 
Soon  there  entered  into  the  hall  the  Holy  Grail, 
covered  with  white  samite,^  so  that  none  saw  it, 
nor  who  bore  it.  The  hall  was  filled  with  sweet 
odors,  and  every  knight  had  such  meat  and  drink 
as  he  loved  best.  And  when  the  Holy  Grail  had 
been  borne  through  the  hall,  it  departed  suddenly. 

Then  the  King  broke  the  solemn  silence  with 
thanks  to  God  for  his  grace,  after  which  Sir 
Gawaine  rose  and  said  :  "  Our  feast  this  day  has 
been  blessed  with  the  presence  of  the  Holy  Grail, 
but  it  was  so  covered  that  we  saw  it  not.  There- 
fore I  here  make  a  vow  that  I  will  to-morrow 
embark  and  devote  a  year  and  a  day  to  knightly 
deeds  in  search  of  the    Holy  Grail."      When    the 

*  A  species  of  silk  interwoven  with  gold. 
4 


50  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

other  "knights  heard  Sir  Gawaine,  they  made  like 
vows. 

"  Alas  ! "  said  King  Arthur,  "  ye  have  slain  me 
with  the  vows  that  ye  have  made.  I  shall  be  be- 
reft of  the  fairest  knighthood  ever  seen  together  in 
any  realm  of  the  world  !  For  I  am  sure  we  all 
shall  never  more  meet  in' this  world,  for  many  of 
you  shall  die  in  the  quest." 

On  the  morrow  they  departed,  and  every  knight 
took  the  way  that  he  liked  best. 

Many  were  the  adventures  of  the  knights,  and 
few  returned  to  the  Eound  Table.  Sir  Galahad 
alone,  as  the  purest  and  bravest  of  knights,  achieved 
the  sight  of  the  Holy  Grail,  and  he  died  in  his  joy. 

DEATH   OF   AETHUR 

So  all  day  long  the  noise  of  battle  roll'd 
Until  King  Arthur's  table,  man  by  man, 
Had  fallen  in  Lyonnesse  about  their  Lord, 
King  Arthur:  then,  because  his  wound  was  deep, 
The  bold  Sir  Bedivere  uplifted  him. 
And  bore  him  to  a  chapel  nigh  the  field. 
On  one  side  lay  the  Ocean,  and  on  one 
Lay  a  great  water,  and  the  moon  was  full. 

Then  spake  King  Arthur  to  Sir  Bedivere: 
"The  sequel  of  to-day  unsolders  all 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  '  51 

The  goodliest  fellowship  of  famous  knights 
Whereof  this  world  holds  record.     Such  a  sleep 
They  sleep — the  men  I  loved.     I  think  that  we 
Shall  never  more,  at  any  future  time, 
Delight  our  souls  with  talk  of  knightly  deeds, 
Walking  about  the  gardens  and  the  halls 
Of  Camelot,  as  in  the  days  that  were. 
I  am  so  deeply  smitten  thro'  the  helm 
That  without  help  I  cannot  last  till  morn. 
Thou  therefore  take  my  brand  Excalibur, 
And  fling  him  far  into  the  middle  mere  : 
Watch    what    thou    seest,    and    lightly    bring    me 
word." 

To  him  replied  the  bold  Sir  Bedivere : 
"It  is  not  meet.  Sir  King,  to  leave  thee  thus. 
Yet,  I  thy  hest  will  all  perform  at  full, 
Watch  what  I  see,  and  lightly  bring  thee  word." 

So  saying,  from  the  ruin'd  shrine  he  stept 
And  in  the  moon  athwart  the  place  of  tombs. 
Came  on  the  shining  levels  of  the  lake. 

There  drew  he  forth  the  brand  Excalibur; 
It  sparkled  keen  with  frost  against  the  hilt : 
For  all  the  haft  twinkled  with  diamond  sparks, 
Myriads  of  topaz-lights,  and  jacinth-work 
Of  subtlest  jewellery.     He  gazed  so  long 
That  both  his  eyes  were  dazzled,  as  he  stood, 
In  act  to  throw :  but  at  the  last  it  seem'd 


52  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Better  to  leave  Excalibur  conceal'd 

There  in  the  many-knotted  waterflags, 

So  strode  he  back  slow  to  the  wounded  King. 

Then  spake  King  Arthur  to  Sir  Bedivere  : 
"What    is    it    thou     hast    seen?     or    what    hast 
heard?" 

And  answer  made  the*  bold  Sir  Bedivere: 
"I  heard  the  ripple  washing  in  the  reeds, 
And  the  wild  water  lapping  on  the  crag." 

To  whom  replied  King  Arthur,  faint  and  pale : 
"Thou  hast  betray'd  thy  nature  and  thy  name, 
Not  rendering  true  answer,  as  beseem'd 
Thy  fealty,  nor  like  a  noble  knight : 
Yet  now,  I  charge  thee,  quickly  go  again 
As  thou  art  lief  and  dear,  and  do  the  thing 
I  bade  thee,  watch,  and  lightly  bring  me  word." 

Then  went  Sir  Bedivere  the  second  time 
Across  the  ridge,  and  paced  beside  the  mere, 
But  when  he  saw  the  wonder  of  the  hilt, 
How  curiously  and  strangely  chased,  he  smote 
His  palms  together,  and  he  cried  aloud, 

"And  if  indeed  I  cast  the  brand  away, 
Surely  a  precious  thing,  one  worthy  note, 
Should  thus  be  lost  forever  from  the  earth." 

So  spake  he,  clouded  with  his  own  conceit. 
And  hid  Excalibur  the  second  time. 
And  so  strode  back  slow  to  the  wounded  King. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  53 

Then  spoke  King  Arthur,  breathing  heavily: 
^^What     is    it    thou     hast     seen?    or    what    hast 
heard?" 

And  answer  made  the  bold  Sir  Bedivere  : 
"I  heard  the  water  lapping  on  the  crag, 
And  the  long  ripple  washing  in  the  reeds." 

To  whom  replied  King  Arthur,  much  in  wrath : 
"  Ah,  miserable  and  unkind,  untrue, 
Unknightly,  traitor-hearted  !    Woe  is  me  ! 
For  thou,  the  latest  left  of  all  my  knights, 
Thou  wouldst  betray  me  for  the  precious  hilt ; 
Yet,  for  a  man  may  fail  in  duty  twice, 
And  the  third  time  may  prosper,  get  thee  hence ; 
But,  if  thou  spare  to  fling  Excalibur, 
I  will  arise  and  slay  thee  with  my  hands." 

Then  quickly  rose  Sir  Bedivere,  and  ran, 
And,  leaping  down  the  ridges  lightly,  plunged 
Among  the  bulrush-beds,  and  clutch'd   the  sword, 
And   strongly    wheel'd    and   threw  it.     The    great 

brand 
Made  lightnings  in  the  splendor  of  the  moon. 
But  ere  he  dipt  the  surface,  rose  an  arm 
Clothed  in  white  samite,  mystic,  wonderful. 
And  caught  him  by  the  hilt,  and  brandish'd  him 
Three   times,  and  drew  him  under  in  the  mere. 
And  lightly  went  the  other  to  the  King. 

Then  spoke  King  Arthur,  drawing  thicker  breath : 


54  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

"  Speak  out :  what  is  it  tliou  hast  heard,  or  seen  ? " 

And  answer  made  the  bold  Sir  Bedivere : 
"  Sir  King,  I  closed  mine  eyelids,  lest  the  gems 
Should  blind  my  purpose,  for  I  never  saw. 
Nor  shall  see,  here  or  elsewhere,  till  I  die. 
So  great  a  miracle  as  yonder  hilt. 
Then  Avith  both  hands  I  flung  him,  wheeling  him ; 
But  when  I  look'd  again,  behold  an  arm. 
Clothed  in  white  samite,  mystic,  wonderful, 
That  caught  him  by  the  hilt,  and  brandish'd  him 
Three  times,  and  drew  him  under  in  the  mere." 

And  answer  made  King  Arthur,  breathing  hard  : 
"  My  end  draws  nigh ;  'tis  time  that  I  were  gone ; 
Make  broad  thy  shoulders  to  receive  my  weight. 
And  bear  me  to  the  margin,  yet  I  fear 
My  wound  hath  taken  cold,  and  I  shall  die." 

So  saying,  from  the  pavement  he  half  rose. 
Slowly,  with  pain,  reclining  on  his  arm, 
And  looking  wistfully  with  wide  blue  eyes 
As  in  a  picture.     Him  Sir  Bedivere 
Then  took  with  care,  and  kneeling  on  one  knee, 
O'er  both  his  shoulders  drew  the  languid  hands, 
And  rising  bore  him  thro'  the  place  of  tombs. 

But,  as  he  walked,  King  Arthur  panted  hard. 
Muttering  and  murmuring  at  his  ear,  "  Quick,  quick  ! 
I  fear  it  is  too  late,  and  I  shall  die." 
But  the  other  swiftly  strode  from  ridge  to  ridge. 


BALLADS  AND   TALES. 


55 


And  on  a  sudden,  lo  !  the  level  lake, 
And  the  long  glories  of  the  winter  moon. 

Then  saw  they  how  there  hove  a  dusky  barge, 
Dark  as  a  funeral  scarf  from  stem  to  stern, 
Beneath  them;    and  descending  they  were  ware 


That  all  the  decks  were  dense  Avith  stately  forms 
Black  stoled,  black  hooded,  like  a  dream — by  these 
Three    Queens    with    crowns    of    gold — and    from 

them  rose 
A  cry   that  shiver'd  to  the  tingling  stars. 

Then  murmur'd  Arthur,  "  Place  me  in  the  barge," 


56  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

And  to  the  barge  they  came.      There  those  three 

Queens 
Put  forth  their  hands,  and  took  the  King,  and  wept. 
But  she,  that  rose  the  tallest  of  them  all 
And  fairest,  laid  his  head  upon  her  lap. 
And  loosed   the  shatter'd   casque,  and    chafed   his 

hands. 
And  caird  him  by  his  name,  complaining  loud, 
And  dropping  bitter  tears  against  his  brow. 
So  like  a  shatter'd  column  lay  the  King. 

Then  loudly  cried  the  bold  Sir  Bedivere : 
"  Ah !  my  Lord  Arthur,  whither  shall  I  go  ? 
Where  shall  I  hide  my  forehead  and  my  eyes? 
For  now  I  see  the  true  old  times  are  dead, 
When  every  morning  brought  a  noble  chance. 
And  every  chance  brought  out  a  noble  knight. 
But  now  the  whole  Round  Table  is  dissolved 
Which  was  an  image  of  the  mighty  world ; 
And  I,  the  last,  go  forth  companionless, 
And  the  days  darken  round  me,  and  the  years, 
Among  new  men,  strange  faces,  other  minds." 

And  slowly  answered  Arthur  from  the  barge : 
"  The  old  order  changeth,  yielding  place  to  new, 
And  God  fulfils  himself  in  many  ways. 
I    have    lived    my    life,   and    that   which    I    have 

done 
May  He  within  Himself  make  pure  !  but  thou, 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  57 

If  thou  shoiildst  never  see  my  face  again, 

Pray  for  my  soul.      More  things  are  wrought   by 

prayer 
Than  this  world  dreams  of.       Wherefore,  let   thy 

voice 
Rise  like  a  fountain  for  me  night  and  day : 
But  now  farewell.     I  am  going  a  long  way 
Where  falls  not  hail,  or  rain,  or  any  snow. 
Where  I  will  heal  me  of  my  grievous  wound." 
So  said  he,  and  the  barge  with  oar  and  sail 
Moved    from    the    brink,   like    some    full-breasted 

swan 
That,  fluting  a  wild  carol  ere  her  death, 
Ruffles  her  pure  cold  plume,  and  takes  the  flood 
With  swarthy  webs.     Long  stood  Sir  Bedivere 
Revolving  many  memories,  till  the  hull 
Look'd  one  black  dot  against  the  verge  of  dawn. 
And  on  the  mere  the  wailing  died  away. 

— Abridged  from  TEiN'isrYSOi^. 

THE   DEATH   OF  ROLAND. 

RoLAKD  was  the  nephew  of  that  noble  King  of 
France  (Charles  the  Great)  known  in  history  as 
Charlemagne  {pron.  shar'le-man).  The  King  had 
taken  him  as  a  babe  from  his  mother's  arms,  had 
brought  him  up,  and  watched  him  as  he  grew  to 


58 


BALLADS   AND  TALES. 


be  the  bravest  knight  and  the  staunchest  captain 
of  the  Frankish  host.  Happy  was  the  King  with 
his  nephew  at  his  side,  and  happy  was  Roland  to 
fight  the  battles  of  his  uncle. 

For  seven  years  the  Franks  had  tarried  in  north- 
ern Spain.  Cit)^  after  city  had  yielded  to  their  arms, 
but  Saragossa  still  withstood  them.    In  this  fortress 

the  Moslem  king  Mar- 
sir  dwelt,  plunged  in 
despair  at  the  ruin 
which  was  only  too 
sure  to  come. 

^^  What  shall  we  do?" 
said  he  to  his  nobles. 
"  We  are  too  few  to 
give  the  great  Charles 
battle.  What  shall  we 
do  to  save  our  lives  and  lands  ?  " 

Then  spoke  Blancandrin,  a  wily  counselloi* :  "  We 
must  get  rid  of  this  proud  conqueror.  Since  we 
cannot  drive  him  away,  let  us  see  if  we  cannot  win 
him  with  promises.  Send  an  embassy  to  him,  and 
say  we  will  give  him  treasure  in  gold  and  cattle ; 
say  we  will  do  him  vassal  service  ;  say  Ave  will  be 
baptized ;  promise  anything  that  will  cause  him  to 
leave  this  land.  He  will  want  hostages  for  the 
fulfilment  of  our  promises.     Send  ten  of  our  sons. 


BALLADS   AND   TALES.  59 

Mine  shall  be  of  tlie  number.  Better  that  a  score 
of  us  should  be  childless  than  that  we  should  lose 
fair  Spain." 

King  Marsir  thought  well  of  this  advice,  and 
chose  as  messengers  to  Charles  the  King  at  Cordova, 
Blancandrin  and  nine  lords  who  were  willing  to 
give  their  sons  as  hostages. 

Cordova  resounded  with  revelry.  Not  a  pagan 
remained  in  the  city  ;  for  all  had  either  been  slain 
or  had  turned  Christian.  Charles  sat  with  his 
knights  in  a  beautiful  garden,  beneath  a  pine  tree 
twined  with  brier  roses.  As  in  his  chair  of  gold 
he  sat,  huge  of  limb,  hale  of  body,  and  noble  of 
countenance,  he  looked  a  hero  indeed. 

Here  the  messengers  from  the  Moslem  king 
found  him.  They  knew  the  king  at  once,  and  fell 
at  his  feet. 

Then  spoke  Blancandrin :  ''  God  save  the  noble 
King  Charles  !  My  master  prays  for  peace.  The 
gifts  he  offers  are  lions,  bears,  hounds,  camels,  and 
falcons,  hundreds  in  number,  his  treasure  of  jewels, 
and  of  gold  and  silver  as  much  as  may  be  put  in 
fifty  chariots  drawn  by  four  hundred  nmles.  Only 
make  peace,  and  return  to  your  own  fair  court,  and 
my  master  will  bow  in  vassalage,  will  hold  all  his 
possessions  subject  to  your  will,  and  will  adore  the 
God  of  the  Christians." 


CO  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

The  King  heard  the  message,  and  pondered  well 
over  it.     Then  said  he : 

"  Your  king  is  my  enemy.  How  shall  I  be 
assured  that  he  will  keep  his  pledges?" 

"  Great  king,"  replied  the  messengers,  "  we  offer 
our  children  as  hostages.  Treat  them  tenderly. 
Our  king  will  visit  your  court  to  pay  his  homage 
and  his  tribute." 

Charles  provided  lodging  and  entertainment  for 
the  embassy,  and  on  the  morrow  they  returned 
home.  He  then  called  his  knights  to  council. 
With  one  voice  they  advised  him  to  beware  of  the 
Moslem  king. 

"  Trust  him  not,"  said  Roland.  "  Remember  how 
he  slew  the  messengers  sent  on  a  peaceful  errand. 
Only  this  fortress  stands  out  against  our  arms. 
Lay  siege  to  it;  conquer  the  last  stronghold  of  the 
pagans ;  so  win  Spain,  and  end  this  weary  war." 

But  Ganelon,  stepfather  to  Roland,  drew  near 
and  said  : 

"  What  more  have  we  to  gain  by  fighting  ?  Has 
not  the  Moslem  offered  us  his  all  ?  What  need  is 
there  for  fighting  for  that  which  is  freely  offered  to 
us  ?  Roland  delights  in  battle  for  its  own  sake,  and 
cares  little  how  many  are  slain,  can  he  but  add  to 
his  renown." 

Then    the    barons    declared    that    Ganelon    had 


BALLADS  AND   TALES. 


61 


spoken  well,  and  the  king  agreeing,  there  wanted 
only  the  messenger  to  bear  Charles's  glove  and  staff 
to  the  Moslem  king  in  token  of  covenant. 

Many  offered  to  go,  among  them  Roland,  and  his 
companion  Oliver. 

Then  the  King  said  :  "  Noble  Franks,  choose  me  a 
worthy  man  to  bear  my  message  to  Marsir." 

Roland  answered :  "  Send  Ganelon,  my  step- 
father." The  other  nobles  also  cried  out :  '^  Send 
Ganelon,  for  none  is  so  cunning  of  speech  as  he." 

Now,  Ganelon  was  a  coward 
at  heart,  and  was  terrified  at 
being  chosen  messenger,  for  he 
remembered  the  fate  of  those 
who  had  gone  on  peaceful  er- 
rands to  the  Moslem.  But  the 
choice  could  not  be  gainsaid. 
The  King  drew  oft'  his  glove, 
and  held  it  forth.  As  Ganelon 
stooped  to  take  it,  it  fell  to  the 
ground. 

''  This  is  surely  an  evil  omen," 
said  the  lords.  But  Ganelon  picked  up  the  glove 
quickly,  and  said :  "  Fear  not ;  you  shall  all  hear 
from  it." 

Many  of  Ganelon's  vassals  would  have  gone  with 
him,  but  he  forbade  them  all,  saying :  "  It  is  better 


62  BALLADS   AND   TALES. 

that  one  should  die  than  many.  Stay  here,  and  if  I 
be  slain,  like  the  messengers  who  have  gone  before, 
be  loyal  to  my  son  Baldwin." 

He  then  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  on  till  he 
overtook  the  pagan  messengers. 

Wily  as  was  Blancandrin,  equally  so  was  Gane- 
lon.  They  had  not  gone  far  together  before  each 
thoroughly  understood  the  other  to  be  a  rogue. 
However,  they  became  as  friends,  and  planned 
together.  When  they  came  to  Saragossa,  Blan- 
candrin led  Ganelon  to  the  King,  and  said  :  "  Most 
worthy  King,  the  answer  to  the  message  which  you 
sent  by  me  to  the  great  Charles  will  be  given  by 
this  noble  lord." 

Then  Ganelon  said :  "  God  save  the  mighty  King 
Marsir !  This  is  the  message  from  the  great  Charles : 
If  you  and  yours  become  Christian,  you  shall  have 
the  half  of  Spain  in  vassalage.  Otherwise  we  will 
come  suddenly,  take  your  land  by  force,  bring  you 
to  court,  and  put  you  to  death." 

The  color  came  and  went  in  the  monarch's  face 
as  he  listened  to  these  words.  Ganelon,  seeing  the 
danger  he  was  in,  continued : 

"  Great  King,  you  have  heard  the  message.  If 
it  be  your  will,  let  the  bearer  of  it  die." 

Then  cried  Blancandrin :  •  ^^  Do  the  Frank  no 
harm  !     He  has  promised  to  work  in  our  interest." 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  63 

"  Good  Sir  Ganelon,'^  said  the  King,  "  I  will  give 
you  five  hundred  pieces  of  gold  as  a  token  of  my 
favor.  But  tell  me,  is  not  your  king  tired  of  war, 
and  satisfied  with  his  riches  ?  He  is  now  old,  and 
has  fought,  conquered,  and  heaped  up  wealth  that 
is  beyond  count." 

"  Charles  has  long  been  tired  of  war,"  answered 
Ganelon,  "but  Roland,  his  captain,  is  covetous  of 
fame,  and  greedy  of  wealth.  Were  he  and  his 
chosen  companions  but  slain,  the  world  would  be 
at  peace.  But  they  command  the  flower  of  the  host 
of  France,  full  twenty  thousand  in  number." 

"  Nevertheless,"  said  the  King,  ''  I  have  four  hun- 
dred thousand  good  men ;  with  these  could  I  not 
fight  Charles  ? " 

"  No,"  Ganelon  answered.  "  Send  back  the  host- 
ages with  me.  Then  will  Charles  gather  up  his 
host  and  depart  for  his  capital  to  await  you.  But 
he  will  leave  the  rear-guard  of  twenty  thousand, 
under  command  of  Roland,  to  follow  after  him. 
Fall  on  these  with  your  warriors.  Let  not  one 
escaj)e.  Then  will  the  power  of  Charles  be  broken, 
for  Roland  is  his  right  arm.  Then  it  will  be  for 
you  to  make  the  terms  of  peace,  for  Charles  will 
fight  no  more.  The  rear-guard  will  pass  along  the 
narrow  valley  of  Ronceval.  There  lie  in  wait  for 
them." 


64  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Then  Marsir  gave  Gauelon  rich  presents  of  gold 
and  jewels,  and  promised  ten  mules'  burden  of  gold 
and  silver,  when  Charles  should  sue  for  peace. 

Ganelon  returned  to  Charles  with  the  news  that 
Marsir  would  embrace  the  Christian  faith,  and  was 
preparing  to  set  out  for  the  Frankish  capital  to 
receive  baptism;  and  that  he  would  hold  Spain 
under  oath  of  fealty  to  Charles. 

Charles,  confiding  in  Ganelon,  then  began  his 
march  through  the  pass  in  the  mountains,  on  his 
return  home.  He  gave  the  command  of  the  rear- 
guard to  Roland  and  his  companion  Oliver,  order- 
ing them  to  hold  the  pass  of  Ronceval  with  twenty 
thousand  men,  while  he  went  on  with  the  rest  of 
the  army. 

When  Charles  had  passed  into  France,  Marsir 
rushed  down  with  twenty  thousand  of  his  warriors 
from  the  hills  where,  by  Ganelon's  advice,  he  had 
lain  in  ambush,  and  attacked  the  rear-guard  of  the 
Franks.  The  Frankish  troops  defended  themselves, 
and  fighting  like  tigers,  forced  the  Moslems  to  flee. 
But  a  fresh  body  of  fifty  thousand  Moslems  then 
appeared,  and  falling  upon  the  Christians,  who 
were  faint  and  exhausted  with  long  fighting,  cut 
them  down  so  that  few  escaped.  Among  these 
were  Roland  and  two  other  captains. 

Roland,  after  the  battle,  ascended  a  lofty  hill,  to 


BALLADS   AND   TALES. 


65 


view  the  Moslem  army,  and  seeing  some  Christians 
retreating  by  the  Ronceval  road,  he  blew  his  horn. 
He  was  quickly  joined  by  about  a  hundred  of  his 
countrymen,  and  soon  they  were  again  in  the  midst 
of  the  enemy,  slashing  and  hewing  with  all  their 
might.     Overcoming  all  opposition,  Roland  reached 


the  Moslem  King  and  slew  him.  But  by  this  time 
most  of  the  other  Christians  were  slain,  and  Roland 
himself  was  seriously  wounded. 

He  now  blew  a  loud  blast  on  his  horn,  to  sum- 
mon to  his  assistance  any  Frank  who  might  be  con- 
cealed in  the  adjacent  woods,  or  to  recall  his  friends 

beyond  the  pass.     This  horn  was  endued  with  such 
5 


ee  BALLADS   AND   TALES. 

power,  that  all  other  horns  were  split  by  its  sound. 
With  such  vehemence  did  Roland  blow  it  that  he 
burst  the  veins  of  his  neck.  The  sound  reached 
the  King's  ears.  Charles  recognized  it,  and  would 
have  rushed  to  his  aid,  but  Ganelon  dissuaded 
him,  saying :  "  Roland  is,  perhaps,  pursuing  some 
wild  beast,  and  the  sound  echoes  through  the 
woods." 

Charles,  however,  was  not  satisfied  with  Gane- 
lon's  explanation,  and  summoning  his  army  he 
marched  back  to  Ronceval.  The  King  himself 
first  discovered  the  hero,  Roland,  lying  where  he 
had  fallen. 

'^  Oh,  why  did  I  leave  thee  here  to  perish  ?  "  cried 
Charles.     "  How  can  I  survive  thy  death  ?  " 

Thus  did  Charles  mourn  for  Roland.  He 
caused  the  body  to  be  embalmed  with  balsam, 
myrrh,  and  aloes.  The  whole  army  Avatched  it 
that  night,  and  the  groves  and  valleys  resounded 
with  wailing. 

Charles  pursued  the  Moslems,  and  overtook  them 
on  the  banks  of  the  Ebro,  feasting  and  rejoicing 
over  their  success.  Attacking  them  valiantly,  he 
slew  many  thousands,  and  dispersed  the  rest. 

Then  the  King  made  strict  inquiry  into  the 
conduct  of  Ganelon.  His  guilt  Avas  clearly  proved, 
and  he  was  executed  as  a  traitor. 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  67 


THE  BALLAD  OF  CHEVY  CHASE. 

[Chevy  Chase  is  one  of  the  most  famous  English  ballads.  It 
was  sung  by  minstrels  all  over  England  long  before  America  was  dis- 
covered. In  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  Sir  Philip  Sidney  said  of  this 
ballad  :  ''  I  never  heard  the  old  song  of  Percy  and  Douglas  that  I  found 
not  my  heart  moved  more  than  with  a  trumpet."  His  praise  caused  the 
song  to  take  a  form  in  which  it  still  exists,  with  the  quaint  old  spelling 
of  that  time.     The  modern  ballad,  slightly  abridged,  is  given  here. 

In  the  Memoirs  of  Carey,  Earl  of  Monmouth,  we  are  told  that  it  was 
the  custom,  in  times  of  peace,  for  those  living  on  either  side  of  the 
Cheviot  Hills,  which  lie  along  the  border  line  between  England  and 
Scotland,  to  send  to  the  Lord  Warden  of  the  other  side  for  permission 
to  hunt  within  his  territory.  Should  this  permission  not  be  asked,  the 
Lord  Warden  of  the  invaded  border  would  not  fail  to  interrupt  the 
sport  and  punish  the  hunters.  In  the  ballad,  Douglas  was  probably  tHe 
Scotch  Lord  Warden  who  resented  the  rudeness  of  Earl  Percy  in  engag- 
ing in  a  hunt  in  the  Cheviots  without  his  permission. 

Though  something  like  the  events  narrated  in  the  ballad  may  have 
occurred,  the  account  of  the  battle  is  really  a  description  of  the  battle 
of  Otterburn,  which  was  fought  in  1388.  In  that  battle  the  Scotch  won 
a  great  victory,  although  Earl  Douglas  lost  his  life.  Percy  was  not 
killed,  but  his  two  sons  were  taken  prisoners.] 


God  prosper  long  our  noble  King, 
Our  lives  and  safeties  all ; 

A  woeful  hunting  once  there  did 
In  Chevy  Chase  befall. 


I 


The  stout  Earl  of  Northumberland 
A  vow  to  God  did  make, 

His  pleasure  in  the  Scottish  woods 
Three  summer  days  to  take  ; 


68  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

The  chiefest  harts  in  Chevy  Chase 

To  kill  and  bear  away. — 
The  tidings  to  Earl  Douglas  came 

In  Scotland,  where  he  lay  ; 

Who  sent  Earl  Percy  present  word 

He  would  prevent  his  sport. 
The  English  Earl,  not  fearing  that, 

Did  to  the  woods  resort. 

With  fifteen  hundred  bowmen  bold. 

All  chosen  men  of  might. 
Who  knew  full  well,  in  time  of  need. 

To  aim  their  shafts  aright. 

The  gallant  greyhounds  swiftly  ran. 

To  chase  the  fallow  deer : 
On  Monday  they  began  to  hunt 

Ere  daylight  did  appear; 

And  long  before  high  noon  they  had 

A  hundred  fat  bucks  slain ; 
Then,  having  dined,  the  drovers  went 

To  rouse  the  deer  again. 

The  hounds  ran  swiftly  through  the  woods 

The  nimble  deer  to  take ; 
And  with  their  cries  the  hills  and  dales 

An  echo  shrill  did  make. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  69 

Lord  Percy  to  the  quarry^  went 

To  view  the  slaughtered  deer; 
Quoth  he,  "Earl  Douglas  promised 

This  day  to  meet  me  here. 

"If  that  I  thought  he  would  not  come, 

No  longer  would  I  stay." 
With  that  a  brave  young  gentleman 

Thus  to  the  earl  did  say : 

"  Lo  !  yonder  doth  Earl  Douglas  come, 

His  men  in  armor  bright ; 
Full  twenty  hundred  Scottish  spears 

All  marching  in  our  sight ; 

"All  men  of  pleasant  Teviotdale, 

Fast  by  the  river  Tweed." 
"Then  cease  your  sport,"  Early  Percy  said, 

"And  take  your  bows  with  speed. 

"And  now  with  me,  my  countrymen. 

Your  courage  forth  advance; 
For  there  was  never  champion  yet, 

In  Scotland  or  in  France, 

"That  ever  did  on  horseback  come, 

But,  if  my  hap  it  were, 
I  durst  encounter,  man  for  man, 

With  him  to  break  a  spear." 

*  Heap  of  game  killed. 


70 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


Earl  Douglas  on  a  milk-white  steed, 

Most  like  a  baron  bold, 
Rode  foremost  of  the  company, 

Whose  armor  shone  like  gold. 

"  Show  me,"  said  he,  '^  whose  men  ye  be, 
That  hunt  so  boldly  here  ; 

That,  without  my  consent,  do  chase 
And  kill  my  fallow  deer ! " 

The  man  that  first  did  answer  make 

Was  noble  Percy,  he, — 
Who  said,  "  We  list  ^  not  to  declare. 

Nor  show  whose    men  we  be. 

*^Yet  will  we  spend  our  dearest  blood 

Thy  chiefest  harts  to  slay." 
Then  Douglas  swore  a  ^  solemn  oath, 

And  thus  in  rage  did  say : 

'^Ere  thus  I  will  out-braved  be, 

One  of  us  two  shall  die  ! 
I  know  thee  well !     An  earl  thou  art ; 

Lord  Percy,  so  am  I ! 

"But  trust  me,  Percy,  pity  it  were, 

And  great  offence  to  kill 
Any  of  these  our  guiltless  men. 

For  they  have  done  no  ill. 

*  Choose. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  71 

'^  Let  thou  and  I  the  battle  try, 

And  set  our  men  aside." 
"Accursed  be  he,"  Earl  Percy  said, 

"  By  whom  this  is  denied  !  " 

Then  stepped  a  gallant  esquire  forth, 

Witherington  was  his  name. 
Who  said,  "  I  would  not  have  it  told 

To  Henry  our  King  for  shame, 

"That  e'er  my  captain  fought  on  foot. 

And  I  stood  looking  on  : 
You  be  two  earls,"  said  Witherington, 

"  And  I  a  'squire  alone : 

"I'll  do  the  best  that  do  I  may, 

While  I  have  power  to  stand; 
While  I  have  power  to  wield  my  sword, 

I'll  fight  with  heart   and  hand." 

Our  English  archers  bent  their  bows, 
Their  hearts  were  good  and  true ; 

At  the  first  flight  of  arrows  sent. 
Full  fourscore  Scots  they  slew. 

Yet  bides  Earl  Douglas  on  the  bent,* 

As   chieftain  stout  and  good  ; 
As  valiant  captain,  all  unmoved. 

The  shock  he    firmly  stood. 

*  Field.  ' 


72  •       BALLADS   AND  TALES. 

His  host  he  parted  had  in  three, 

As  leader  ware  and  tried, 
And  soon  his  spearmen  on  their  foes 

Bore  down  on  every  side. 

Throughout  the  English  archery 
They  dealt  full  many  a  wound, 

But  still  our  valiant  Englishmen 
All  firmly  kept  their  ground  : 

And  throwing  straight  their  bows  away, 
They  grasped  their  swords  so  bright : 

And  now  sharp  blows,  a  heavy  shower. 
On  shields  and  helmets  light. 

At  last  these  two  stout  earls  did  meet. 
Like  captains  of  great  might ; 

Like  lions  wild,  they  laid  on  load,* 
And  made  a  cruel  fight. 

"  Yield  thee.  Lord  Percy  !  "  Douglas  said ; 

"In  faith  I  will  thee  bring 
Where  thou  shalt  high  advanced  be 

By  James,  our  Scottish  King. 

"  Thy  ransom  I  will  freely  give, 

And  thus  report  of  thee : 
Thou  art  the  most  courageous  knight 

That  ever  I  did  see." 

*  Attacked  fiercely. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


Y3 


''No,  Douglas!"  quoth  Earl  Percy  then; 

*'  Thy  proifer  I  do  scoiii ; 
I  will  not  yield  to  any  Scot 

That  ever  yet  was  born ! " 


With  that  there  came  an  arrow  keen 

Out  of  an  English  bow, 
Which  struck  Earl  Douglas  to  the  heart, 

A  deep  and  deadly  blow : 

Who  never  spoke  more  words  than  these: 
''  Fight  on,  my  merry  men  all ! 

For  why  ?  my  life  is  at  an  end  : 
Lord  Percy  sees  my  fall," 


74  BALLADS   AND   TALES. 

Then  leaning  down,  Earl  Percy  took 
The  dead  man  by  the  hand, 

And  said,  "  Earl  Douglas,  for  thy  life 
Would  I  had  lost  my  land ! 

"  Alas  !  my  very  heart  doth  bleed 
With  sorrow  for  thy  sake ; 

For  sure,  a  more  redoubted  knight 
Mischance  could  never  take." 

A  knight  amongst  the  Scots  there  was. 
Who  saw  Earl  Douglas  die. 

And  straight  in  wrath  did  vow  revenge 
Upon  the  Lord  Percy : 

Sir  Hugh  Montgomery  he  was   called; 

Who  with  a  spear  most  bright, 
Well  mounted  on  a  gallant  steed, 

Ran  fiercely  through  the  fight. 

And,  past  the  English  archers  all. 

Without  all  dread  or  fear; 
And  through  Earl  Percy's  body  then 

He  thrust  his  hateful   spear: 

So  thus  did  both  these  nobles  die. 
Whose  courage  none  could  stain. 

An  English  archer  then  perceived 
The  noble  earl  was  slain ; 


BALLADS   AND   TALES.  75 

He  had  a  bow  bent  in  his  hand, 

Made  of  a  trusty  tree; 
An  arrow  of  a  cloth-yard  ^  long 

Up  to  the  head  drew  he  : 

Against  Sir  Hugh  Montgomery 

So  right  the  shaft  he  set, 
The  gray-goose  wing  that  was  thereon 

In  his  heart's  blood  was  wet. 

The  fight  did  last  from  break  of  day 

Till  setting  of  the  sun ; 
For  when  they  rung  the  evening-bell 

The  battle  scarce  was  done. 

Of  twenty  hundred  Scottish  spears 

Scarce  fifty-five  did  flee : 
Of  fifteen  hundred  Englishmen 

Went  home  but  fifty-three. 

God  save  our  King,  and  bless  this  land 

In  plenty,  joy,  and  peace ! 
And  grant,  henceforth,  that  foul  debate 

'Twixt  noblemen  shall  cease. 

*  Twenty-seven  inches. 


76  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


DICK   AVHITTINGTON   AND   HIS   CAT. 

About  five  hundred  years  ago,  in  a  little  vil- 
lage not  far  from.  London,  there  was  a  poor  orphan 
boy  named  Dick  Whittington.  How  he  lived  few 
knew,  and  nobody  cared ;  but  though  no  one  cared 
for  him,  he  was  honest  and  truthful  and  did  nothing 
of  which  he  need  be  ashamed. 

In  return  for  what  little  work  he  was  able  to 
do,  he  would  receive  a  meal  and  a  lodging,  or 
even  a  cast-off  garment,  and  so  he  managed  to 
exist. 

Ragged  and  neglected  as  he  was,  however,  he 
was  brighter  than  many  a  boy  well  clothed  and 
fed.  He  learned  of  the  great  city  which  was  near, 
and  the  stories  he  heard  were  made  brighter  by 
his  imagination.  The  great  wealth  of  the  city, 
the  fine  houses,  the  beautiful  streets,  and  the  richly 
dressed  people  lost  none  of  their  splendor  in  the 
mind  of  the  little  country  lad. 

Little  Dick  dreamed  of  all  these  fine  things  till 
at  last  he  came  to  think  that  the  streets  of  Lon- 
don were  paved  Avith  gold,  and  that  he  had  only 
to  reach  the  city  to  make  his  fortune. 

The  men  with  whom  he  sometimes  talked 
amused    themselves    with    the    lad,  and    told    him 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


Y7 


stories  which  fired  his  imagination  all  the  more. 
Nothing  would  now  do  for  Dick  but  to  go  to 
London.  Could  he  only  reach  the  city,  all  his 
troubles  would  be  over,  and  he  would  be  as  fine 
a  gentleman  as  any  in  the  land. 

But  how  was  he  to  get  there  ?  He  was  but  a 
little  fellow,  and  he  did  not  know  the  way.  One 
day  he  met  a  man  who    was  going  to  London  in 

a  wagon,  and  when  Dick 
begged  to  go  along,  he 
was  overjoyed  to  be  al- 
lowed to  walk  by  the 
side  of  the  wagon  all  the 
way. 

"  How  kind  the  wag- 
oner is  to  me  !  "  thought 
Dick.  "  Now  I  shall  soon 
Some  time  I  shall  come 
back  here,  and  how^  the  people  will  stare  when 
they  see  me  in  my  fine  clothes  !  " 

The  way  did  not  seem  long  to  Dick,  for  his 
mind  continually  dwelt  on  the  great  things  he 
would  do.  At  last  London  came  into  view,  and 
the  wagoner  whipped  up  his  horses  and  was  away 
before  Dick  could  persuade  himself  that  the  golden 
city  was  at  hand.  He  looked  about  him,  but  no 
sign    of    gold    was    anywhere    to    be    seen.      The 


be  as  good    as  anyone. 


78  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

streets  were  even  dirtier  than  those  of  his  native 
village,  and  the  people  were  stranger  and  more 
uncivil  than  any  he  had  met  before. 

He  wandered  about  in  his  disappointment,  vainly 
looking  for  something  to  prove  to  him  that  he  had 
not  been  mistaken  in  what  he  had  imagined  the 
great  city  to '  be.  But,  alas  !  how  he  had  deceived 
himself. 

Wearied  with  his  long  walk,  and  weak  from 
hunger,  Dick  accosted  several  people  and  begged 
them  to  give  him  something  in  charity.  Some 
only  stared  at  him,  while  others  roughly  bade 
him  let  them  alone.  One  man,  annoyed  at  the 
request  of  the  lad,  gave  him  a  blow  which  cut 
his  head  and  caused  the  blood  to  trickle  down 
his  face. 

At  last,  fainting  with  hunger  and  loss  of  blood, 
poor  Dick  lay  down  at  the  cloorstep  of  a  rich 
merchant;  but  he  was  rudely  awakened  by  a  ser- 
vant, who  threatened  to  scald  him  if  he  did  not 
move  on.  He  managed  to  get  on  his  feet  just  as 
the  merchant,  Mr.  Fitz warren,  came  up.  He  be- 
gan to  ask  some  questions,  but  before  the  boy 
could  answer  he  fell  fainting  at  the  feet  of  the 
merchant. 

Mr.  Fitzwarren  immediately  ordered  the  servants 
to  take    the    boy  into  the    house    and  put  him  to 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  79 

bed.  Here  he  was  fed  and  cared  for,  and  when 
he  had  fully  recovered  he  was  delighted  to  learn 
that  he  was  to  be  employed  by  his  benefactor. 
To  be  sure,  the  work  was  not  very  pleasant,  for 
he  had  to  help  the  cook,  who  disliked  him  from 
the  moment  she  saw  him  at  the  doorstep.  No 
work  was  too  mean  for  him,  and  when  she  could 
And  nothing  for  him  to  do,  she  beat  him  with  any- 
thing she  could  lay  hold  of.  At  last,  news  of  poor 
Dick's  ill  treatment  reached  Miss  Alice,  the  mas- 
ter's young  daughter,  and  she  gave  strict  orders 
that  he  should  no  longer  be  abused. 

But  Dick's  misery  was  not  confined  to  the  kitchen. 
When  at  night  he  was  able  to  escape  the  cook's 
abuse  and  go  to  bed,  he  had  to  encounter  a  new 
terror.  The  garret  in  which  he  slept  was  so  in- 
fested with  rats  and  mice  that  he  was  kept  awake 
the  greater  part  of  the  night.  They  would  run  over 
him  in  bed,  and  they  seemed  to  grow  bolder  as  time 
Avore  on.  He  used  to  long  for  the  morning,  even 
though  it  was  but  the  dawn  of  another  day  of  abuse 
in  the  kitchen. 

One  day  a  gentleman  who  visited  Mr.  Fitzwar- 
ren's  house  gave  Dick  a  penny.  This  the  lad  put 
in  his  pocket  and  kept  securely,  for  it  was  the  first 
piece  of  money  he  had  ever  had.  Visions  of  the 
wealth  that  would  come  to  him  tlirougli  profitable 


80  BALLADS   AND  TALES. 

investment  danced  before  liis  eyes.  He  must  begin 
prudently,  lie  thought,  for  everything  depends  on  the 
success  of  the  first  investment.  Just  then  he  spied 
a  woman  in  the  street  with  a  cat  under  her  arm. 
The  thoughts  of  his  misery  at  night  put  to  flight 
all  his  dreams  of  wealth,  for  there  was  the  animal 
that  would  drive  away  the  rats  and  mice.  Without 
further  thought,  he  ran  up  to  the  woman  and  asked 
her  if  she  would  sell  her  cat  for  a  penny.  She 
laughed  at  Dick  for  thinking  that  her  cat  could  be 
bought  for  such  a  sum ;  but  he  begged  piteously, 
telling  her  that  he  was  in  sore  need  of  a  cat,  and 
had  only  a  penny  in  the  world.  She  then  let  him 
have  the  animal. 

Dick  thanked  the  woman  for  her  kindness,  and 
ran  off  with  his  prize  to  the  garret.  The  cat  soon 
killed  or  frightened  away  the  rats  and  the  mice,  so 
that  the  poor  boy  could  now  sleep  in  j)eace. 

One  day,  Mr.  Fitzwarren  called  his  servants 
together,  and  announced  to  them  that  he  was  about 
to  send  a  ship  on  a  trading  voyage,  and,  according 
to  his  custom,  every  one  of  the  servants  might 
venture  something.  Each  article  was  to  be  traded 
for  the  sole  benefit  of  the  sender,  wi^out  any 
charge  being  made  for  freight  or  commission. 

All  the  servants  were  present  except  poor  Whit- 
tington.      Miss    Alice,    noticing    his    absence    and 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  81 

knowing  that  his  poverty  kept  him  away,  ordered 
j   him  to  be  called. 

Dick  came,  and  when  asked  to  venture  some- 
thing in  the  expedition  knew  not  what  to  say,  for  he 
had  neither  money  nor  goods.  Miss  Alice  offered 
'  to  contribute  something  in  his  name,  but  the  mer- 
chant would  not  permit  this.  Dick  felt  his  poverty 
I  as  never  before,  and  he  could  not  think  of  a  single 
thing  that  he  had  worth  venturing.  But  suddenly 
he  remembered  his  cat.  The  rats  and  mice  had  all 
disappeared,  and  Puss  was  getting  fat  from  laziness. 
"  But  surely,"  he  thought,  "  she  has  earned  the  right 
to  be  idle." 

"  Come,  come,  Dick ! "  said  Mr.  Fitzwarren  sud- 
denly ;  "  what  are  you  dreaming  about  ?  " 

Before  Dick  could  think,  he  quickly  answered : 
"  Only  about  my  cat." 

"  Your  cat  ? "  exclaimed  several. 

^^Yes,  my  cat,  that  I  bought  for  a  penny,  and 
that  has  driven  away  all  the  rats  and  mice  that  used 
to  annoy  me  so,"  replied  Dick. 

''  Fetch  the  cat,  boy,"  said  the  merchant,  "  and 
send  her." 

Whittington  brought  poor  Puss  and  delivered 
her  over  to  the  captain  of  the  merchant's  vessel. 

"  There,"  said  he  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  now  the 
rats  and  mice  will  annoy  me  as  much  as  ever." 
6 


82 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


Everybody  laughed  at  the  poor  fellow  except 
Miss  Alice,  and  she  in  pity  gave  him  some  money 
and  told  him  to  buy  another  cat. 


While  Puss  was  at  sea,  poor  Dick  was  enduring 
great  torment  at  the  hands  of  the  cook.  She  was 
too  much  afraid  of  her  master  and  Miss  Alice  to 
beat  the  boy,  but  she  did  not  hesitate  to  scold  him 
and  to  abuse  him  with  her  tongue. 

At  last  Dick  determined  to  run  away.  Having 
packed  up  the  few  things  he  had,  he  set  out 
very  early  one  morning.  He  had  travelled  quite 
a  distance,  and  was  sitting  down  on  a  stone  to  rest 
and    to    consider    what    course    he    should    take, 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  83 

when   Bow  *   Bells  began   to   ring.     They  seemed 
to  speak  to  him  and  to  say : 

^'  Turn  again,  Whitfcington, 
Thrice  Lord  Mayor  of  London.'' 

"  Lord  Mayor  of  London  !  "  said  he  to  himself. 
"  That  is  worth  going  back  for.  What  wouldn't 
one  endure  to  be  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  and 
ride  in  the  great  state  coach?  Why,  this  would 
be  even  better  than  my  old  dreams.  Think  of 
going  back  to  the  village  as  Lord  Mayor  !  Well, 
I'll  go  back  to  Mr.  Fitz warren's,  and  the  cook 
may  pummel  and  abuse  me  as  much  as  she 
pleases." 

So  back  he  went,  and  reached  his  garret  before 
anyone  noticed  that  he  had  been  away. 

But  how  fared  the  expedition  in  which  Mr. 
Fitzwarren  and  his  servants  had  ventured  so 
much  ? 

The  ship  which  had  the  cat  on  board  encountered 
rough  weather,  and  at  last,  by  contrary  winds,  was 
driven  out  of  her  course  on  a  part  of  the  coast  of 
Barbary  which  was  inhabited  by  Moors.  These 
people  received  the  seamen  kindly,  and  the  captain, 
in  order  to  trade  with  them,  showed  the  samples 

*  The  celebva,ted  chimes  of  the  Church  of  St.  Mary-le-Bow,  London. 


84  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

of  the  goods  he  had  on  board,  and  sent  some  to 
the  king  of  the  country.  His  Majesty  was  so 
well  pleased  that  he  sent  for  the  officers  of  •the 
vessel  and  invited  them  to  his  palace.  Here  they 
were  received,  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
country,  on  rich  carpets,  embroidered  with  gold 
and  silver.  The  king  and  queen  having  taken  seats 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  room,  dinner  was  brought 
in ;  but  no  sooner  were  the  dishes  placed  before 
them  than  an  amazing  number  of  rats  and  mice 
came  from  all  quarters,  and  devoured  the  food. 

The  captain,  in  surprise,  turned  to  the  nobles, 
and  asked  why  these  vermin  were  permitted  to 
infest  the  palace.  They  said  :  '^  The  king  would 
give  half  his  treasure  to  be  freed  from  them,  for 
they  not  only  destroy  his  dinner,  but  attack  him 
even  in  bed,  so  that  he  has  to  be  watched  while 
he  is  sleeping,  and  we  have  found  no  means  of 
destroying  them." 

The  captain  jumped  for  joy;  he  remembered 
poor  Whittington  and  his  cat,  and  told  the  king 
he  had  a  creature  on  board  the  ship  that  would 
despatch  all  these  vermin  immediately.  The  king 
was  so  joyed  at  this  news  that  his  turban  dropped 
off  his  head.  ''  Bring  this  creature  to  me,"  said 
he  ;  "  and  if  it  will  perform  what  you  say,  I  will 
load  your  ship  with  gold  and  jewels  in  exchange." 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  85 

The  captain,  who  was  a  shrewd  trader,  at  once 
beean  to  set  forth  the  merits  of  Dick's  cat.  He 
told  his  majesty  that  it  would  be  inconvenient  to 
part  with  her,  as,  when  she  was  gone,  the  rats  and 
mice  might  destroy  the  goods  in  the  ship ;  but  to 
oblige  his  majesty  he  would  fetch  her.  "  Run,  run," 
said  the  queen ;  "  I  am  impatient  to  see  the  dear 
creature." 

Away  went  the  captain  to  his  ship,  and  the 
king's  cooks  meanwhile  prepared  another  dinner. 
It  had  just  been  placed  before  tlie  guests,  and  the 
rats  and  mice  were  about  to  devour  it  as  before, 
when  the  captain  returned  Avitli  the  cat  in  his 
arms.  She  sprang  upon  the  largest  rat  and  killed 
it  before  the  king  could  realize  what  had  happened, 
while  the  other  rats  at  the  very  sight  of  her  fled  in 
terror  to  their  holes. 

The  king  rejoiced  greatly  to  see  his  old  enemies 
driven  away,  and  the  queen  was  so  pleased  that 
she  desired  to  have  the  cat  near  her.  Hereupon 
the  captain  called  the  cat,  and  she  came  to  him. 
He  then  presented  her  to  the  queen. 

The  cat  was  put  down  on  the  queen's  lap,  where, 
after  playing  with  her  majesty's  hand,  she  purred 
herself  to  sleep. 

The  king  now  began  to  bargain  with  the  captain 
for  the  ship's  whole  cargo,  and  then  gave  ten  times 


86 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


as  muoli  for  the  cat  as  for  all  the  rest.  After 
staying  a  few  days  at  the  court,  the  captain  and 
the  oflScers  took  leave  of  their  majesties,  and  sailed 
with  a  fair  wind  for  England.  The  return  voyage 
was  favorable,  and  they  soon  -reached  home. 

One  morning,  Mr.  Fitzwarren  had  just  entered 
the  counting-house  and  seated  himself  at  his  desk, 
when  he  heard  a  tap,  tap,  at  the  door.  "Who's 
there  ? "  said  Mr.  Fitzwarren.  "  A  friend,"  answered 
the  other.  "I  come  to  bring  you  good  news  of 
your  ship."  The  merchant  hastened  to  open  the 
door.    Who  should  be  there  ^ 

waiting  but  the  captain, 
with  a  cabinet  of  jewels 
and  a  bill  of  lading  for  the 
goods  he  had  received  in 
trade.  Then  the  captain 
related  the  adventures  of 
his  voyage,  and  showed  the 
cabinet  of  jewels  which  he 
had  received  for  Dick's 
cat.  Upon  this  Mr.  Fitzwarren  rang  for  his  foot- 
man and  told  him  to  call  Dick,  crying  out  with 
great  earnestness,  as  the  story-writers  of  that  time 
tell  us : 

'^Go  send  him  in,  and  tell  him  of  his  fame, 
And  call  him  Mr.  Whittington  by  name.'^ 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  87 

Some  one  who  was  present  told  the  merchant 
that  this  treasure  was  too  much  for  such  a  lad 
as  Dick ;  but  he  said,  with  great  earnestness : 
"  God  forbid  that  I  should  deprive  the  poor  boy 
of  a  penny ;  it  is  his  own,  and  he  shall  have  it  to 
a  farthing."  Dick  came  in,  thinking  it  was  in- 
tended to  make  sport  of  him,  as  had  been  too  often 
the  case  in  the  kitchen ;  so  he  besought  his  master 
not  to  mock  a  poor  simple  fellow  who  intended 
no  harm,  but  let  him  go  about  his  business.  The 
merchant,  taking  him  by  the  hand,  said :  "  Indeed, 
Mr.  Whittington,  I  am  in  earnest  with  you,  and  I 
want  to  congratulate  you  on  your  great  success. 
Your  cat  has  procured  you  more  money  than  all  I 
am  w^orth  in  the  world,  and  may  you  long  enjoy  it 
and  be  happy  !  " 

Being  shown  the  treasure,  and  convinced  at 
length  that  all  of  it  belonged  to  him,  he  fell  upon 
his  knees  and  thanked  the  Almighty  for  his  provi- 
dential care.  He  then  laid  all  the  treasure  at  his 
master's  feet.  Mr.  Fitzwarren  refused  to  take  any 
part  of  it,  but  said  that  he  rejoiced  heartily  at 
Dick's  prosperity,  and  hoped  the  wealth  he  had 
acquired  would  be  a  comfort  to  him,  and  would 
make  him  happy.  Dick  then  applied  to  his  mis- 
tress, and  to  his  good  friend  Miss  Alice,  who 
X'efused  to  take  any  part  of  the  money.     He  gave 


88 


BALLADS  AND   TALES. 


a  valuable  present  to  the  captain  and  all  the 
ship's  crew  for  the  care  they  had  taken  of  his 
cat.  He  likewise  distributed  presents  to  all  the 
servants  in  the  house,  not  forgetting  even  his  old 
enemy  the  cook,  though  she  little  deserved  any- 
thing good  at  his  hands. 

After  this,  Mr.  Fitzwarren  advised  Mr.  Whit- 
tington  to  send  for  a  proper  outfit  and  dress  him- 
self like  a  gentleman,  and  invited  him  to  remain 
as  a  guest  till  he  could  provide  himself  with  a 
suitable  home. 

Now,  when  Mr.  Whittington's  face  was  washed, 
his  hair  curled,  and  ha  was  dressed  in  a  rich  suit 
of  clothes,  he  was  a  fine-looking  young  fellow ;  and, 
as  wealth  contributes  much  to  give  a  man  confi- 
dence, he  soon  acquired 
the  manner  of  a  gentle- 
man of  that  time.  He 
grew  to  be  a  sprightly 
and  good  companion, 
and  Miss  Alice,  who 
had  formerly  pitied 
him,  now  fell  in  love 
with  him. 

When  her  father  per- 
ceived this,  he  proposed    a    match    between    them, 
to  w^hich  both  parties  cheerfully  consented,  and  the 


BALLADS   AND   TALES.  89 

Lord  Mayor,  the  Aldermen,  the  Sheriffs,  the  Com- 
pany of  Stationers,  the  Royal  Academy  of  Arts, 
and  a  number  of  eminent  merchants  attended  the 
marriage  ceremony,  and  were  entertained  at  a  mag- 
nificent ^^edding  feast.  Dick  and  his  wife  lived 
very  happily  together  to  a  good  old  age.  Mr.  Whit- 
tington  served  as  Sheriff  of  London,  and  was  three 
times  Lord  Mayor.  In  the  last  year  of  his  mayor- 
alty he  entertained  King  Henry  V.  and  his  queen, 
after  his  return  from  France.  Upon  this  occa- 
sion the  king,  in  consideration  of  Whittington's 
merit,  said :  "  Never  had  prince  such  a  subject." 
To  this  Whittington  replied  :  "  Never  had  subject 
such  a  king."  His  majesty,  out  of  respect  for  the 
good  character  of  Mr.  Whittington,  conferred  the 
honor  of  knighthood  on  him. 

His  early  poverty  made  Sir  Richard  ever  active  in 
charity  and  in  public  works.  No  person  in  distress 
ever  applied  to  him  in  vain  for  assistance.  For  many 
years  before  his  death  he  daily  fed  a  great  number 
of  poor  citizens.  His  public  spirit  was  remarkable. 
He  built  a  church  and  a  college,  with  a  yearly  allow- 
ance for  poor  scholars,  and  erected  a  hospital  near 
by.  He  also  gave  liberally  to  St.  Bartholomew's 
Hospital,  and  to  other  public  charities.  The  city 
of  London,  and  even  King  Henry  himself,  received 
assistance  from  him  in  times  of  financial  trouble. 


90 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


THE   HEART   OF   THE   BRUCE. 

It  was  upon  an  April  morn, 
While  yet  the  frost  lay  hoar, 

We  heard  Lord  James's  bugle  horn 
Sound  by  the  rocky  shore. 

Then  down  we  went,  a  hundred  knights, 

All  in  our  dark  array, 
And  flung  our  armor  in  the  ships 

That  rode  within  the  bay. 


We  spoke  not  as  the  shore  grew  less, 
But  gazed  in  silence  back. 

Where  the  long  billows  swept  away 
The  foam  behind  our  track. 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  91 

And  aye  the  purple  hues  decay'd 

Upon  the  fading  hill, 

And  but  one  heart  in  all  that  ship 

Was  tranquil,  cold,  and  still. 

The  good  Lord  Douglas  walk'd  the  deck. 

And  oh,  his  brow  was  wan  ! 
Unlike  the  flush  it  used  to  wear 

When  in  the  battle  van. — 

"  Come  hither,  come  hither,  my  trusty  knight. 

Sir  Simon  of  the  Lee  ; 
There  is  a  freit  ^'  lies  near  my  soul 

I  fain  would  tell  to  thee. 

"  Thou  knowest  the  Avords  King  Robert  spoke 

Upon  his  dying  day. 
How  he  bade  me  take  his  noble  heart 

And  carry  it  far  away  ; 

"  And  lay  it  in  the  holy  soil 

Where  once  the  Saviour  trod. 
Since  he  might  not  bear  the  blessed  Cross, 

Nor  strike  one   blow  for  God. 

"Now,  by  thy  knightly  faith,  I  pray, 

Sir  Simon  of  the  Lee — 
For  truer  friend  had  never  man 

Than  thou  hast  been  to  me — 

*  Pronounced /re^,  a  foreboding  of  good  or  evil. 


92  BALLADS   AND  TALES. 

^*'If  ne'er  upon  the  Holy  Land 

'Tis  mine  in  life  to  tread, 
Bear  thou  to  Scotland's  kindly  earth 

The  relics  of  her  dead." 

The  tear  was  in  Sir  Simon's  eye 
As  he  wrung  the  warrior's  hand  : — 

"  Betide  me  weal,  betide   me  woe, 
I'll  hold  by  thy  command. 

''  But  if  in  battle  front,  Lord  James, 
*Tis  ours  once  more  to  ride. 

Nor  force  of  man,  nor  craft  of  fiend, 
Shall  cleave  me  from  thy  side  ! " 

And  aye  we  sail'd,  and  aye  we  sail'd. 

Across  the  weary  sea, 
Until  one  morn  the  coast  of  Spain 

Rose  grimly  on  our  lee. 

And  as  we  rounded  to  the  port. 
Beneath  the  watch-tower's  wall, 

We  heard  the  clash  of  the  atabals,"^ 
And  the  trumpet's  wavering  call. 

"  Why  sounds  yon  Eastern  music  here 

So  wantonly  and  long. 
And  whose  the  crowd  of  armed  men 

That  round  yon   standard   throng  ? " 

*  Small  Moorish  drums. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  93 

"  The  Moors  have  come  from  Africa 

To  spoil,  and  waste,  and  slay, 
And  King  Alonzo  of  Castile 

Must  fight  with  them  to-day." 

"  Now  shame  it  were,"  cried  good  Lord  James, 

"  Shall  never  be  said  of  me 
That  I  and  mine  have  turn'd  aside, 

From  the  Cross  in  jeopardie  ! 

"  Have  down,  have  down,  my  merry  men  all — 

Have  down  unto  the  plain; 
We'll  let  the  Scottish  lion  loose 

Within  the  fields   of  Spain  ! " 

"  Now  welcome  to  me,  noble  lord. 

Thou  and  thy  stalwart  power; 
Dear  is  the  sight  of  a  Christian  knight 

Who  comes  in  such  an  hour  ! 

"  Is  it  for  bond  or  faith  ye  come. 

Or  yet  for  golden  fee  ? 
Or  bring  ye  France's  lilies  here, 

Oi*  the  flower  of  Burgundie  ? " 

"  God  greet  thee  well,  thou  valiant  King, 

Thee  and  thy  belted  peers — 
Sir  James  of  Douglas  am  I  called. 

And  these  are  Scottish  spears. 


94  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

"We  do  not  fight  for  bond  or  pligH 

Nor  yet  for  golden  fee; 
But  for  the  sake  of  our  blessed  Lord, 

Who  died  upon  the  tree. 

"  We  bring  our  great  King  Robert's  heart 

Across  the  weltering  wave, 
To  lay  it  in  the  holy  soil 

Hard  by  the   Saviour's  grave. 

"True  pilgrims  we,  by  land  or  sea, 
Where  danger  bars  the  way ; 

And  therefore  are  we  here.  Lord  King, 
To  ride  with  thee  this  day  !  " 

The  King  has  bent  his  stately  head. 
And  the  tears  were  in  his  eyne^: — 

"  God's  blessing  on  thee,  noble  knight. 
For  this  brave  thought  of  thine  ! 

"I  know  thy  name  full  well,  Lord  James, 

And  honour'd  may  I  be, 
That  those  who  fought  beside  the  Bruce 

Should  fight  this  day  for  me  ! 

"Take  thou  the  leading  of  the  van. 
And  charge  the  Moors  amain ; 

There  is  not  such  a  lance  as  thine 
In  all  the  host  of  Spain  ! " 

*  Eyes. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

The  Douglas  turned  towards  us  then, 
O  but  his  glance  was  high  ! — 

"There  is  not  one  of  all  my  men 
But  is  as  bold  as  I. 


95 


"There  is  not  one  of  all  my  knights 
But  bears  as  true  a  spear — 

Then  onwards !  Scottish  gentlemen, 
And  think — King  Robert's  here." 


96  BALLADS  ANI) 'TALES. 

The  trumpets  blew,  the  cross-bolts  flew, 
The  arrows  flashed  like  flame, 

As,  spur  in  side  and  spear  in  rest. 
Against  the  foe  we  came. 

And  many  a  bearded  Saracen 

Went  down,  both  horse  and  man ; 

For  through  their  ranks  we  rode  like  corn, 
So  furiously  we  ran  ! 

But  in  behind  our  path  they  closed. 
Though  fain  to  let  us  through, 

For  they  were  forty  thousand  men. 
And  we  were  wondrous  few. 

We  might  not  see  a  lance's  length. 

So  dense  was  their  array, 
But  the  long  fell  sweep  of  the  Scottish  blade 

Still  held  them  hard  at  bay. 

"  Make  in  !  make  in  !  "  Lord  Douglas  cried, 

"  Make  in,  my  brethren  dear ! 
Sir  William  of  Saint  Clair  is  down. 

We  may  not  leave  him  here  ! " 

But  thicker,  thicker,  grew  the  swarm. 

And  shar]3er  shot  the  rain. 
And  the  horses  reared  amid  the  press, 

But  they  would  not  charge  again. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  97 

"Now  Heaven  telp  thee,"  said  Lord  James,' 
"  Thou  kind  and  true  Saint  Clair ! 

An'  if  I  may  not  bring  thee  off, 
ril  die  beside  thee  there!" 

Then  in  his  stirrups  up  he  stood, 

So  lionlike  and  bold, 
And  held  the  precious  heart  aloft. 

All  in  its  case  of  gold. 

He  flung  it  from  him,  far  ahead, 

And  never  spake  he  more. 
But,  "Pass  thee  first,  thou  dauntless  heart. 

As  thou  wert  wont  of  yore ! " 

The  roar  of  fight  rose  fiercer  yet, 

And  heavier  still  the  stour,^ 
Till  the  spears  of  Spain  came  shivering  in 

And  swept  away  the  Moor. 

"Now  praised  be  God,  the  day  is  won! 

They  fly  o'er  flood  and  fell — 
Why  dost  thou  draw  the  rein  so  hard, 

Good  knight  that  fought  so  well  ? " 

"  Oh,  ride  ye  on.  Lord  King ! "    he  said, 

"And  leave  the  dead  to  me, 
For  I  must  keep  the  dreariest  watch 

That  ever  I  shall  dree !  f 

*  Conflict.  t  Endure. 

7 


98 


BALLADS   AND  TALES. 


"There  lies,  beside  his  master's  heart, 

The  Douglas,  stark  and  grim, 
And  woe  is  me  I  should  be  here, 

Not  side  by  side  with  him ! 

^^And  Scotland,  thou  may'st  veil  thy  head 

In  sorrow  and  in  pain ; 
The  sorest  stroke  upon  thy  brow 

Hath  fallen  this  day  in  Spain  ! " 

We  bore  the  good  Lord  James  away, 
And  the  priceless  heart  he  bore, 

And  heavily  we  steered  our  ship 
Towards  the  Scottish  shore. 

No  welcome  greeted  our  return, 

Nor  clang  of  martial  tread,  ]Yc  ^ 

But  all  were  dumb  and  ^.  f^i!'(|  j;'"'  f  '•  r^_ 

hushed  as  death 
Before    the  mighty 
dead. 

We  laid  our  chief  in 

Douglas  Kirk,       "^ 
The    heart   in   fail 
Melrose ; 
And  woeful  men  were  we  that  day- 
God  grant  their  souls  repose  ! 

— William  Edmoistdstoune  Aytoun. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  09 

THE  STORY   OF  MACBETH. 
I.  The  Witches  Greet  Him. 

There  was  once  a  king  of  Scotland  called  Dun- 
can, a  very  good  old  man.  He  had  two  sons ;  one 
was  called  Malcolm,  and  the  other  Donaldbane. 
But  King  Duncan  was  too  old  to  lead  out  his  army 
to  battle,  and  his  sons  were  too  young  to  help  him. 

Now  it  happened,  in  King  Duncan's  time,  that  a 
great  fleet  of  Danes  came  to  Scotland  and  landed 
their  men  in  Fife,  and  threatened  to  take  possession 
of  that  province.  So  a  numerous  Scottish  army 
was  levied  to  go  to  fight  against  them.  The  King, 
as  I  have  Just  said,  was  too  old  to  command  his 
army,  and  his  sons  were  too  young.  He  therefore 
sent  out  one  of  his  near  relations,  called  Macbeth, 
who  was  the  son  of  the  Thane  of  Glammis.  The 
governors  of  provinces  were  at  that  time,  in  Scot- 
land, called  thanes ;  they  were  afterwards  termed 
earls. 

This  Macbeth,  who  was  a  brave  soldier,  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  the  Scottish  army,  and  marched 
against  the  Danes.  And  he  carried  with  him  a 
relation  of  his  own,  called  Banquo,  who  was  Thane 
of  Lochaber,  and  was  also  a  very  brave  man.     So 


100  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

there  was  a  great  battle  fought  between  the  Danes 
and  the  Scots ;  and  Macbeth  and  Banquo,  the  Scot- 
tish generals,  defeated  the  Danes,  and  drove  them 
back  to  their  ships,  leaving  a  great  many  of  their 
soldiers  both  killed  and  wounded.  Then  Macbeth 
and  his  army  marched  back  to  a  town  in  the  north 
of  Scotland,  called  Forres,  rejoicing  on  account  of 
their  victory. 

Now  there  lived  at  this  time  three  old  women  in 
the  town  of  Forres,  whom  people  looked  upon  as 
witches,  and  supposed  they  could  tell  what  was  to 
come  to  pass.  Nobody  would  believe  such  folly 
nowadays,  except  low  and  ignorant  creatures,  such 
as  those  who  consult  gypsies  in  order  to  have  their 
fortunes  told ;  but  in  those  early  times  the  people 
were  much  more  ignorant,  and  even  great  men,  like 
Macbeth,  believed  that  such  persons  as  these  witches 
of  Forres  could  tell  what  was  to  come  to  pass  after- 
wards, and  listened  to  the  nonsense  they  told  them 
as  if  the  old  women  had  really  been  prophetesses. 
The  old  women  saw  that  they  were  respected  and 
feared,  so  that  they  were  tempted  to  impose  upon 
people,  by  pretending  to  tell  what  was  to  happen  to 
them ;  and  they  got  presents  for  doing  so. 

So  the  three  old  women  went  and  stood  by  the 
wayside,  in  a  great  moor  or  heath  near  Forres,  and 
waited  till  Macbeth  came  up.     And  then,  stepping 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  101 

before  him  as  he  was  marching  at  the  head  of  his 
soldiers,  the  first  woman  said,  "  All  hail,  Macbeth — 
hail  to  thee,  Thane  of  Glammis."  The  second  said, 
"  All  hail,  Macbeth — hail  to  thee,  Thane  of  Cawdor." 
Then  the  third,  wishing  to  pay  him  a  higher  com- 
pliment than  the  other  two,  said,  "  All  hail,  Mac- 
beth, that  shalt  be  King 
of  Scotland."  Macbeth 
was  very  much  surprised 
to  hear  them  give  him 
these  titles ;  and  while 
he  was  wondering  what 
they  could  mean,  Banquo 
stepped      forward,     and 

asked  them  whether  they  had  nothing  to  tell 
about  him  as  well  as  about  Macbeth.  And  they 
said  that  he  should  not  be  so  great  as  Macbeth, 
but  that,  though  he  himself  should  never  be  a 
king,  yet  his  children  should  succeed  to  the  throne 
of  Scotland,  and  be  kings  for  a  great  number  of 
years. 

Before  Macbeth  recovered  from  his  surprise,  there 
came  a  messenger  to  tell  him  that  his  father  was 
dead,  so  that  he  was  become  Thane  of  Glammis  by 
inheritance.  And  there  came  a  second  messenger, 
from  the  King,  to  thank  Macbeth  for  the  great  vic- 
tory over  the  Danes,  and  tell  him  that  the  Thane  of 


102  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Cawdor  had  rebelled  against  the  King,  and  that  the 
King  had  taken  his  office  from  him,  and  had  sent  to 
make  Macbeth  Thane  of  Cawdor  as  well  as  of  Glam- 
mis.  Thus  the  first  two  old  women  seemed  to  be 
right  in  giving  him  those  two  titles.  I  dare  say 
they  knew  something  of  the  death  of  Macbeth's 
father,  and  that  the  government  of  Cawdor  was 
intended  for  Macbeth,  though  he  had  not  heard  of  it. 
However,  Macbeth,  seeing  a  part  of  their  words 
come  to  be  true,  began  to  think  how  he  was  to 
bring  the  rest  to  pass,  and  make  himself  king,  as 
well  as  Thane  of  Glammis  and  Cawdor.  Now  Mac- 
beth had  a  wife,  who  was  a  very  ambitious,  wicked 
woman,  and  when  she  found  out  that  her  husband 
thought  of  raising  himself  up  to  be  King  of  Scot- 
land, she  encouraged  him  in  his  wicked  purpose  by 
all  the  means  in  her  power,  and  persuaded  him  that 
the  only  Avay  to  get  possession  of  the  crown  was  to 
kill  the  good  old  King  Duncan.  Macbeth  w^as  very 
unwilling  to  commit  so  great  a  crime,  for  he  knew 
what  a  good  sovereign  Duncan  had  been;  and  he 
recollected  that  he  was  his  relation,  and  had  been 
always  very  kind  to  him,  and  had  intrusted  him 
with  the  command  of  his  army,  and  had  bestowed 
on  him  the  government  or  thanedom  of  Cawdor. 
But  his  wife  continued  telling  him  what  a  foolish, 
cowardly  thing  it  was  in  him  not  to  take  the  oppor- 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  103 

tunity  of  making  himself  King,  when  it  was  in  his 
power  to  gain  what  the  witches  promised  him.  So 
the  wicked  advice  of  his  wife,  and  the  prophecy  of 
these  wretched  old  women,  at  last  brought  Macbeth 
to  think  of  murdering  his  King  and  his  friend. 
The  way  in  which  he  accomplished  his  crime  made 
it  still  more  abominable. 

II.  Macbeth  Becomes  King. 

Macbeth  invited  Duncan  to  come  to  visit  him,  at 
a  great  castle  near  Inverness;  and  the  good  King, 
who  had  no  suspicions  of  his  kinsman,  accepted  the 
invitation  very  willingly.  Macbeth  and  his  lady 
received  the  King  and  all  his  retinue  with  much  ap- 
pearance of  joy,  and  made  a  great  feast,  as  a  subject 
w^ould  do  to  make  his  King  welcome.  About  the 
middle  of  tlie  night,  the  King  desired  to  go  to  his 
apartment,  and  Macbeth  conducted  him  to  a  fine 
room  which  had  been  prepared  for  him.  Now  it 
was  the  custom,  in  those  barbarous  times,  that 
wherever  the  King  slept,  two  armed  men  slept  in 
the  same  chamber,  in  order  to  defend  his  person  in 
case  he  should  be  attacked  by  any  one  during  the 
night.  But  the  wicked  Lady  Macbeth  had  made 
these  two  watchmen  drink  a  great  deal  of  wine,  and 
had  besides  put  some  drugs  into  the  liquor ;  so  that 


104 


BALLADS  AND   TALES. 


when  they  went  to  the  King's  apartment  they  both 
fell  asleep,  and  slept  so  soundly  that  nothing  could 
awaken  them. 

Then  the  cruel  Macbeth  came  into  King  Duncan's 
bedroom  about  two  in  the  morning.  It  was  a  terri- 
ble, stormy  night ;  but  the  noise  of  the  wind  and  of 
the  thunder  did  not  awaken  the  King,  for  he  was 
old,  and  weary  with  his  Journey  ;  neither  could  it 
awaken  the  two  sentinels,  who  were  stupefied  with 
the    liquor    and    the    drugs   they    had    swallowed. 


They  all  slept  soundly.  So  Macbeth,  having  come 
into  the  room  and  stepped  gently  over  the  floor, 
took  the  two  dirks  which  belonged  to  the  senti- 
nels, and  stabbed  poor  old  King  Duncan  to  the 
heart.     Then  Macbeth  put  the  bloody  daggers  into 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  105 

the  hands  of  the  sentinels,  that  it  might  appear  as 
if  they  had  committed  the  murder.  Macbeth  was, 
however,  greatly  frightened  at  what  he  had  done, 
but  his  wife  made  him  wash  his  hands  and  go  to 
bed. 

Early  in  the  morning,  the  nobles  and  gentlemen 
who  attended  on  the  king  assembled  in  the  great 
hall  of  the  castle,  and  there  they  began  to  talk  of 
what  a  dreadful  storm  it  had  been  the  night  before. 
But  Macbeth  could  scarcely  understand  w^hat  they 
said,  for  he  was  thinking  on  something  much  worse 
and  more  frightful  than  the  storm,  and  was  won- 
dering what  would  be  said  when  they  heard  of  the 
murder.  They  waited  for  some  time  ;  but  finding 
the  King  did  not  come  from  his  apartment,  one  of 
the  noblemen  went  to  see  whether  he  was  well  or 
not.  But  when  he  came  into  the  room,  he  found 
poor  King  Duncan  lying  stiff  and  cold,  and  the 
two  sentinels  both  fast  asleep.  As  soon  as  the 
Scottish  nobles  saw  this  terrible  sight,  they  were 
greatly  astonished  and  enraged ;  and  Macbeth  made 
believe  as  if  he  were  more  enraged  than  any  of 
them,  and,  drawing  his  sword,  before  any  one  could 
prevent  him,  he  killed  the  two  attendants  of  the 
King  who  slept  in  the  bedchamber,  pretending  to 
think  they  had  been  guilty  of  murdering  King 
Duncan. 


106  BALLADS  AND   TALES. 

When  Malcolm  and  Donaldbane,  the  two  sons  of 
the  good  King,  saw  their  father  slain  in  this  strange 
manner  within  Macbeth's  castle,  they  became  afraid 
that  they  might  be  put  to  death  likewise,  and  fled 
away  out  of  Scotland ;  for,  notwithstanding  all  the 
excuses  which  he  could  make,  they  still  believed 
that  Macbeth  had  killed  their  father.  Donaldbane 
fled  into  some  distant  islands,  but  Malcolm,  the 
eldest  son  of  Duncan,  went  to  the  court  of  Eng- 
land, where  he  begged  for  assistance  from  the 
English  King,  to  place  him  on  the  throne  of  Scot- 
land as  his  father's  successor. 

In  the  mean  time,  Macbeth  took  possession  of  the 
kingdom  of  Scotland,  and  thus  all  his  wicked  wishes 
seemed  to  be  fulfilled.  But  he  was  not  happy.  He 
began  to  reflect  how  wicked  he  had  been  in  killing 
his  friend  and  benefactor,  and  how  some  other  per- 
son, as  ambitious  as  he  was  himself,  might  do  the 
same  thing  to  him.  He  remembered,  too,  that  the 
old  women  had  said  that  the  children  of  Banquo 
should  succeed  to  the  throne  after  his  death,  and 
therefore  he  concluded  that  Banquo  might  be 
tempted  to  conspire  against  him,  as  he  had  him- 
self done  against  King  Duncan.  The  wicked  always 
think  other  people  are  as  bad  as  themselves.  In 
order  to  prevent  this  supposed  danger,  Macbeth 
hired  ruffians  to  watch  in  a  wood,  where  Banquo 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  107 

and  his  son  Fleance  sometimes  used  to  walk  in  tlie 
evening,  with  instructions  to  attack  them,  and  kill 
both  father  and  son.  The  villains  did  as  they  were 
ordered  by  Macbeth  ;  but  while  they  were  killing 
Banquo,  the  boy  Fleance  made  his  escape  from 
their  wicked  hands,  and  fled  from  Scotland  into 
Wales.  And  it  is  said  that,  long  afterwards,  his 
children  came  to  possess  the  Scottish  crown. 

Macbeth  was  not  the  more  happy  that  he  had 
slain  his  brave  friend  and  cousin,  Banquo.  He 
knew  that  men  began  to  suspect  the  wicked  deeds 
which  he  had  done,  and  he  was  constantly  afraid 
that  some  one  would  put  him  to  death  as  he  had 
done  his  old  sovereign,  or  that  Malcolm  would 
obtain  assistance  from  the  King  of  England,  and 
come  to  make  war  against  him,  and  take  from  him 
the  Scottish  kingdom.  So,  in  this  great  perplexity 
of  mind,  he  thought  he  would  go  to  the  old  women 
whose  words  had  first  put  into  his  mind  the  desire 
of  becoming  a  king.  It  is  to  be  supposed  that  he 
offered  them  presents,  and  that  they  were  cunning 
enough  to  study  how  to  give  him  some  answer 
which  should  make  him  continue  in  the  belief  that 
they  could  prophesy  what  was  to  happen  in  future 
times.  So  they  answered  him  that  he  should  not 
be  conquered,  or  lose  the  crown  of  Scotland,  imtil 
a  great  forest,  called  Birnam  Wood,  should  come 


108.  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

to  attac]^  a  strong  castle  situated  on  a  high  hill 
called  Dunsinane,*  in  which  castle  Macbeth  com- 
monly resided.  Now,  the  hill  of  Diinsinane  is 
upon  the  one  side  of  a  great  valley,  and  the  forest 
of  Birnam  is  upon  the  other.  There  are  twelve 
miles'  distance  betwixt  them ;  and  besides  that, 
Macbeth  thought  it  was  impossible  that  the  trees 
could  ever  come  to  the  assault  of  the  castle.  He 
therefore  resolved  to  fortify  his  castle  on  the  hill 
of  Dunsinane  very  strongly,  as  being  a  place  in 
which  he  would  always  be  sure  to  be  safe.  For 
this  purpose  he  caused  all  his  great  nobility  and 
thanes  to  send  in  stones,  and  wood  and  other  things 
wanted  in  building,  and  to  drag  them  with  oxen  up 
to  the  top  of  the  steep  hill  where  he  was  building 
the  castle. 

III.  BiRis^AM  Wood  Comes  to  Dunsinane. 

Now,  among  other  nobles  who  were  obliged  to 
send  oxen,  and  horses,  and  materials  to  this  labori- 
ous w^ork,  was  one  called  Macduff,  the  Thane  of  Fife. 
Macbeth  was  afraid  of  this  thane,  for  he  was  very 
powerful,  and  was  accounted  both  brave  and  wise  ; 
and  Macbeth  thought  he  would  most  probably  join 

^  In  Scotland  pronounced  Dunsinnan. 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  109 

with  Prince  Malcolm,  if  e\^er  lie  should  come  from 
England  with  an  army.  The  King,  therefore,  had 
a  private  hatred  against  the  Thane  of  Fife,  which 
he  kept  concealed  from  all  men,  until  he  should 
have  some  opportunity  of  putting  him  to  death,  as 
he  had  done  Duncan  and  Banquo.  Macduff,  on  his 
part,  kept  upon  his  guard,  and  went  to  the  King's 
court  as  seldom  as  he  could,  thinking  himself  never 
safe  unless  while  in  his  own  castle  of  Kennoway, 
which  is  on  the  coast  of  Fife,  near  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Frith  of  Forth. 

It  happened,  however,  that  the  King  had  sum- 
moned several  of  his  nobles,  and  Macduff,  the  Thane 
of  Fife,  amongst  others,  to  attend  him  at  his  new 
castle  of  Dunsinane ;  and  they  were  all  obliged  to 
come — none  dared  stay  behind.  Now,  the  King 
was  to  give  the  nobles  a  great  entertainment,  and 
preparations  were  made  for  it.  In  the  mean  time, 
Macbeth  rode  out  with  a  few  attendants,  to  see  the 
oxen  drag  the  wood  and  the  stones  up  the  hill,  for 
enlarging  and  strengthening  the  castle.  So  they 
saw  most  of  the  oxen  trudging  up  the  hill  with 
great  difficulty  (for  the  ascent  is  very  steep),  and 
the  burdens  were  heavy,  and  the  weather  was  ex- 
tremely hot.  At  length  Macbeth  saw  a  pair  of 
oxen  so  tired  that  they  could  go  no  farther  up  the 
hill,   but  fell  down   under   their   load.     Then  the 


110  BALLADS   AND  TALES. 

King  was  very  angry,  and  demanded  to  know  who 
it  was  among  his  thanes  that  had  sent  oxen  so  weak 
and  so  unfit  for  labor,  when  he  had  so  much  work 
for  them  to  do.  Some  one  replied  that  the  oxen 
belonged  to  Macduff,  the  Thane  of  Fife.  "Then," 
said  the  King,  in  great  anger,  "  since  the  Thane  of 
Fife  sends  such  worthless  cattle  as  these  to  do  rny 
labor,  I  will  put  his  own  neck  into  the  yoke,  and 
make  him  drag  the  burdens  himself." 

There  was  a  friend  of  Macduff  who  heard  these 
angry  expressions  of  the  King,  and  hastened  to 
communicate  them  to  the  Thane  of  Fife,  who  was 
walking  in  the  hall  of  the  King's  castle  while  din- 
ner was  preparing.  The  instant  that  Macduff  heard 
what  the  King  had  said,  he  knew  he  had  no  time  to 
lose  in  making  his  escape  ;  for  whenever  Macbeth 
threatened  to  do  mischief  to  any  one,  he  was  sure  to 
keep  his  word. 

So  Macduff  snatched  up  from  the  table  a  loaf  of 
bread,  called  for  his  horses  and  his  servants,  and 
was  galloping  back  to  his  own  province  of  Fife, 
before  Macbeth  and  the  rest  of  the  nobility  were 
returned  to  the  castle.  The  first  question  which 
the  King  asked  was,  what  had  become  of  Mac- 
duff? and  being  informed  that  he  had  fled  from 
Dunsinane,  he  ordered  a  body  of  his  guards  to  at- 
tend him,   and  mounted  on  horseback   himself  to 


BALLADS   AND  TALES.  Ill 

pursue  the  thane,  with  the  purpose  of  putting  him 
to  death. 

Macduff,  in  the  mean  time,  fled  as  fast  as  horses' 
feet  coukl  carry  him  ;  but  he  was  so  ill  provided 
with  money  for  his  expenses,  that,  when  he  came 
to  the  great  ferry  over  the  river  Tay,  he  had  noth- 
ing to  give  to  the  boatmen  Avho  took  him  across, 
excepting  the  loaf  of  bread  which  he  had  taken 
from  the  King's  table.  The  place  was  called,  for  a 
long  time  afterwards,  the  Ferry  of  the  Loal 

When  Macduff  got  into  his  province  of  Fife, 
which  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  Tay,  he  rode  on 
faster  than  before,  towards  his  own  castle  of  Ken- 
noway,  w^hich,  as  I  told  you,  stands  close  by  the 
sea-side ;  and  when  he  reached  it,  the  King  and 
his  guards  were  not  far  behind  him.  Macduff 
ordered  his  wife  to  shut  the  gates  of  the  castle, 
draw  up  the  drawbridge,  and  on  no  account  to 
permit  the  King  or  any  of  his  soldiers  to  enter. 
Having  given  this  order,  he  went  to  the  small 
harbor  belonging  to  the  castle,  and  caused  a  ship 
which  was  lying  there  to  be  fitted  out  for  sea  in  all 
haste,  and  got  on  board  himself,  in  order  to  escape 
from  Macbeth. 

In  the  mean  time,  Macbeth  summoned  the  lady 
to  surrender  the  castle,  and  to  deliver  up  her  hus- 
band.    But  Lady  Macduff,  who  was  a  wise  and  a 


112  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

brave  woman,  made  many  excuses  and  delays,  until 
she  knew  that  her  husband  was  safely  on  board  the 
ship,  and  had  sailed  from  the  harbor.  Then  she 
spoke  boldly  from  the  wall  of  the  castle  to  the 
King,  who  was  standing  before  the  gate  still  de- 
manding entrance,  with  many  threats  of  what  he 
would  do  if  Macduff  was  not  given  up  to  him. , 

"  Do  you  see,"  she  said,  "  yon  white  sail  upon  the 
sea?  Yonder  goes  Macduff  to  the  court  of  Eng- 
land. You  will  never  see  him  again,  till  he  comes 
back  with  young  Prince  Malcolm,  to  pull  you  down 
from  the  throne,  and  to  put  you  to  death.  You 
will  never  be  able  to  put  your  yoke,  as  you 
threatened,  on  the  Thane  of  Fife's  neck." 

Some  say  that  Macbeth  was  so  much  enraged  at 
this  bold  answer,  that  he  and  his  guards  attacked 
the  castle  and  took  it,  killing  the  brave  lady  and 
all  whom  they  found  there. 

There  reigned  at  that  time  in  England  a  very 
good  king,  called  Edward  the  Confessor.  Prince 
Malcolm,  the  son  of  Duncan,  was  at  his  court, 
soliciting  assistance  to  recover  the  Scottish  throne. 
The  arrival  of  Macduff  greatly  aided  the  success  of 
his  petition ;  for  the  English  King  knew  that 
Macduff  was  a  brave  and  a  wise  man.  As  he 
assured  Edward  that  the  Scots  were  tired  of  the 
cruel   Macbeth,  and  would  Join  Prince   Malcolm  if 


BALLADS   AND   TALES.  113 

he  were  to  return  to  his  country  at  the  head  of  an 
army,  the  king  ordered  the  Earl  of  Northumberland 
to  enter  Scotland  with  a  large  force  and  assist 
Prince  Malcolm  in  the  recovery  of  his  father's 
crown. 

Then  it  happened  just  as  Macduff  had  said;  for 
the  Scottish  thanes^  and  nobles  would  not  fight  for 
Macbeth,  but  joined  Prince  Malcolm  and  Macduff 
against  him ;  so  that  at  length  he  shut  himself  up 
in  his  castle  of  Dunsinane,  where  he  thought  him- 
self safe,  according  to  the  old  women's  prophecy, 
until  Birnam  Wood  should  come  against  him.  He 
boasted  of  this  to  his  followers,  and  encouraged 
them  to  make  a  valiant  defence/  assuring  them  of 
certain  victory.  At  this  time  Malcolm  and  Macduff 
were  come  as  far  as  Birnam  Wood,  and  lay  en- 
camped there  with  their  army.  The  next  morning, 
when  they  were  to  march  across  the  broad  valley 
to  attack  the  castle  of  Dunsinane,  Macduff  advised 
that  every  soldier  should  cut  down  a  bough  of  a 
tree  and  carry  it  in  his  hand,  that  the  enemy  might 
not  be  able  to  see  how  many  men  were  coming 
against  them. 

Now,  the  sentinel  who  stood  on  Macbeth's  castle 
wall,  when  he  saw  all  these  branches  which  the 
soldiers  of  Prince  Malcolm  carried,  ran  to  the 
king,  and  informed  him  that  the  wood  of  Birnam 


114 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


was  moving  towards  the  castle  of  Dunsinane.     The 
Kino;  at  first  called  him  a  liar,  and  threatened  to 

put  him  to  death  ;  but 
when  he  looked  from 
the  walls  himself,  and 
saw  the  appearance  of  a 
forest  approaching  from 
Birnam,  he  knew  the 
hour  of  his  destruction 
was  come.  His  follow- 
ers, too,  began  to  be 
disheartened  and  to  fly 
from  the  castle,  seeing  their  master  had  lost  all  hopes. 
Macbeth,  however,  recollected  his  own  bravery, 
and  sallied  desperately  out  at  the  head  of  the  few 
followers  who  remained  faithful  to  him.  He  was 
killed,  after  a  furious  resistance,  fighting  hand  to 
hand  with  Macduff  in  the  thick  of  the  battle. 
Prince  Malcolm  mounted  the  throne  of  Scotland, 
and  reigned  long  and  prosperously.  He  rewarded 
Macduff  by  declaring  that  his  descendants  should 
lead  the  vanguard  of  the  Scottish  army  in  battle, 
and  place  the  crown  on  the  king's  head  at  the  cere- 
mony of  coronation.  King  Malcolm  also  created 
the  thanes  of  Scotland  earls,  after  the  title  of 
dignity  adopted  in  the  court  of  England. 

— Sir  Walter  Scott^ 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


115 


O  Adam  Gordon's  gloomy  haunt 
Prince  Edward  wound  his  way: 

"  And  could  I  meet  that  bold  outlaw 
In  the  wold  where  he  doth  lay ! 


"For  he  hath  harried  merry  Hampshire, 
And  many  a  spoil  possessed ; 

A  bolder  outlaw  than  this  wight 
Ne'er  trod  by  east  or  west. 


116  BALLADS   AND  TALES. 

^^And  now  come  on,  my  merry  men  all, 

Nor  heed  the  dreary  way; 
For  could  I  meet  that  bold  outlaw 

Full  soon  I  would  him  slay." 

Then  spake  a  knight:  "It  may  be  long 

Ere  Gordon  you  shall  find, 
For  he  doth  dwell  in  a  weary  haunt 

Remote  from  humankind. 

"  Among  the  wolds  and  deep  morass 

His  lodging  he  hath  ta'en; 
And  never  that  wand'ring  wight  went  in 

That  e'er  came  out  again." 

Prince  Edward  drew  his  dark-brown  sword 
And  shook  his  shining  lance : 

"And  rather  I'd  fight  this  bold  outlaw 
Than  all  the  peers  of  France." 

Prince  Edward  grasped  his  buckler  strong 

And  proudly  marched  forth  : 
"And  rather  I'd  conquer  this  bold  outlaw 

Than  all  the  knights  o'  the  north." 

And  then  bespake  a  valiant  knight : 
"  Now,  prince,  thy  words  make  good. 

For  yonder  I  see  that  bold  outlaw 
A  coming  forth  the  wood." 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  117 

Then  quick  the  prince  lit  off  his  steed, 

And  onward  wound  his  way ; 
"Now  stand  ye  by,  my  merry  men  all, 

And  ye  shall  see  brave  play." 

Brave  Adam  o'  Gordon  saw  the  prince 

As  he  came  forth  the  wold, 
And  soon  he  knew  him  by  his  shield 

And  his  banners  all  of  gold. 

"  Arouse  !  "  he  cried,  "  my  merry  men  all, 
And  stand  ye  well  your  ground, 

For  yonder  great  Prince  Edward  comes. 
For  valor  so  renowned." 

"Now,  welcome,  welcome,  Adam  Gordon; 

I'm  glad  I  have  thee  found. 
For  many  a  day  I've  sought  for  thee 

Thro'  all  the  country  round." 

"Now  here  I  swear,"  brave  Adam  cried, 

"Had  I  but  been  so  told, 
I  would  have  met  thee  long  ere  now. 

In  city  or  in  wold." 

Oh  !    then  began  as  fierce  a  fight 

As  e'er  was  fought  in  field ; 
The  prince  was  stout,  the  outlaw  strong. 

Their  hearts  with  courage  steeled. 


118  BALLADS  AND   TALES. 

Full  many  a  warrior  stood  around 

That  marvellous  fight  to  see^ 
While  from  their  wounds  the  gushing  blood 

Ran  like  the  fountain  free. 

Thrice  they  agreed,  o'erspent  with  toil. 

To  cease  their  sturdy  blows, 
And  thrice  they  stopped  to  quench  their  thirst 

And  wipe  their  bloody  brows. 

"  Adam,  thy  valor  charms  my  soul ; 

I  ever  love  the  brave, 
And  tho'  I  fear  not  thy  dread  sword, 

Thy  honor  I  would  save. 

"Here,  Gordon,  do  I  plight  my  hand. 

My  honor  and  renown, 
That  if  thou  to  my  sword  wilt  yield 

And  my  allegiance  own  ; 

"  But,  more,  if  thou  wilt  be  my  friend. 

And  faithful  share  my  heart, 
I'll  ever  prove  gentle  unto  thee — 

We  never  more  will  part. 

"Thou,  in  the  raging  battle's  hour, 

Shalt  aye  fight  by  my  side, 
And  at  my  table  and  my  court 

In  times  of  peace  preside. 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  119 

"When  prosperous  fate  shall  gild  my  throne, 

Thou  shalt  partake  my  joy; 
When  troubles  lower,  to  soothe  thy  prince 

Shall  be  thy  sole  employ. 

"  And  I  to  thee  the  same  will  prove, 

A  gentle,  bosom  friend. 
In  Joy  to  share  thy  happiness, 

In  woe  thy  cares  to  attend. 

"  Now,  Adam,  take  thy  lasting  choice ; 

Thy  prince  awaits  thy  word : 
Accept,  brave  man,  my  smile  or  frown, 

My  friendship  or  my  sword." 

Brave  Adam,  struck  with  wonder,  gazed — 

He  sighed  at  every  w^ord ; 
Then,  falling  quick  upon  his  knee. 

He  gave  the  prince  his  sword. 

Upon  the  warrior's  dark-brown  cheek 

A  tear  was  seen  to  shine ; 
He  laid  his  hand  upon  his  heart — 

"  Brave  Edward,  I  am  thine." 

The  pitying  prince  the  warrior  raised, 

And  pressed  him  to  his  heart ; 
'^  Adam,  thy  prince  will  be  thy  friend — 

We  never  more  will  part." 


120  BALLADS  AND   TALES. 

A  shouting  from  their  followers  by 
Proclaimed  the  joyful  sound; 

The  hills  and  woodlands,  echoing  loud, 
Dispersed  the  tidings  round. 

The  prince  then  made  that  brave  outlaw 

On  his  own  steed  to  ride, 
With  banners  rich  and  trappings  gay. 

And  he  rode  by  his  side. 

Where'er  the  royal  Edward  fought. 
Brave  Gordon  aye  would  wend ; 

And  Edward,  like  a  noble  prince, 
Was  ever  Gordon's  friend. 

— Evans's  Collection. 


WILLIAM   TELL. 

L 

In  the  very  heart  of  the  little  Republic  of  Swit- 
zerland are  three  states  or  "cantons,"  w^hich  are 
known  as  Forest  Cantons,  and  are  famous  in  the 
world's  history. 

When  the  Romans  crossed  the  Alps  about  two 
thousand  years  ago,  thej^  found  in  these  cantons  a 
hardy    race    of    mountaineers,    who,    though    only 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  121 

peasants,  were  free  men  and  proud  of  their  inde- 
pendence. The  cantons  became  allies  of  Rome,  and 
in  time  part  of  the  empire,  but  they  retained  the 
right  to  elect  their  own  officers  every  year  and  to 
govern  themselves. 

The  Roman  Empire  declined,  the  states  of 
Middle  Europe  fell  into  the  power  of  many  petty 
princes,  or  were  overrun  by  the  barbarians,  but 
these  three  cantons  remained  free.  They  were  of 
too  little  importance  to  attract  those  who  were  con- 
tending for  possession  of  the  rich  valleys  below. 
Thus,  for  century  after  century,  the  mountaineers 
lived  and  prospered  in  their  simple  way,  undis- 
turbed by  the  rest  of  the  world.  They  tilled  their 
soil,  tended  their  flocks,  and  w^ere  content  because 
they  were  free.  The  young  had  no  higher  aim  in 
life  than  to  imitate  the  virtues  of  their  parents,  and 
the  old  were  careful  to  instil  into  the  young  a  love 
of  God,  of  home,  and  of  liberty. 

The  Hapsburg  family,  whose  home  was  in  a  can- 
ton in  the  Rhine  valley,  grew  very  rich,  and  in  time 
acquired  large  tracts  of  land  in  the  Forest  Cantons 
as  well  as  elsewhere. 

One  of  the  Hapsburgs,  named  Albert,  finally 
became  Duke  of  Austria.  With  his  armies  he 
crushed  out  all  resistance  in  the  valley  and  made 
his  powder  absolute.     Learning  that  the  people  of 


122  BALLADS   AND  TALES. 

the  three  Forest  Cantons  maintained  their  own 
government  and  exulted  in  their  freedom,  he  be- 
lieved that  his  authority  was  defied.  So  he  sent  a 
governor  named  Gessler  with  a  large  body  of  sol- 
diers to  bring  the  poor  farmers  and  shepherds 
under  subjection.  This  man  took  up  his  abode  at 
Altorf,  the  principal  village  in  the  three  cantons. . 

Gessler  was  in  every  way  fitted  to  be  a  tyrant ;  he 
had  a  restless  spirit,  a  violent  temper,  and  a  soul 
that  delighted  in  deeds  of  cruelty.  Under  such  a 
man  acts  of  tyranny  were  of  e very-day  occurrence. 
If  the  people  complained  of  any  outrage  committed 
by  the  soldiers,  the  complaint  was  treated  with  de- 
rision, if  not  punished  as  a  crime. 

Amono;  the  mountaineers  none  was  hardier  or 
braver  than  William  Tell.  He  was  a  head  taller 
than  his  tallest  companions.  His  foot  was  as  firm 
as  that  of  the  chamois,  which  he  delighted  to  chase 
to  the  icy  mountain-tops.  So  skilful  was  he  with 
the  crossbow  that  no  archer  was  bold  enough  to 
compete  with  him.  When  the  eagle  had  escaped 
the  shafts  of  his  companions,  his  arrow  would  bring 
down  the  noble  bird.  His  stalwart  figure  and  dig- 
nified bearing  overawed  strangers,  and  it  is  said 
that  one  of  the  duke's  tax-collectors,  meeting  him  on 
a  narrow  mountain  pass,  crouched  in  a  crevice  of 
the  rocks  and  left  the  entire  footpath  for  him.     A 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


123 


man  like  this  was  fitted  to  be  a  leader.    His  was  the 

mind  that  conceived  a  plan  for  freeing  his  country ; 

his   was    the 

voice    that 

roused   his 

countrymen 

to    action; 

and    his  was 

the  arm  that 

struck   the 

first  blow  for 

liberty. 

From  the 
moment  of 
Gessler's  ar- 
rival Tell 
foresaw  the 
misery  that 
was  to  follow. 
He  knew 
there  would 
be  work  for 
brave  hearts 
and     willing 

hands.  He  talked  with  some  of  the  principal  men  of 
the  three  cantons^  and  to  them  he  unfolded  his  plans. 
Secret  meetings  were  held^  and  every  effort  was  used 


124  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

to  rouse  from  their  despair  his  broken-hearted  country- 
men. Before  a  year  had  passed  spears,  swords,  and  bat- 
tle-axes were  secured  and  distributed,  and  the  moun- 
taineers only  waited  the  signal  from  Tell  to  rise  against 
their  oppressors.  The  Austrian  tax-collectors  in  the 
cantons  had  no  suspicion  of  what  was  being  done. 
They  looked  upon  the  people  as  little  more  than  cat- 
tle, and  incapable  of  taking  up  arms  against  the  trained 
troops  of  Austria,  and,  poor  and  needy  as  the  moun- 
taineers w^ere,  there  Avas  not  a  traitor  among  them  all. 
Gessler  himself  felt  secure  in  his  tyranny.  His 
arrogance  took  such  possession  of  him  that  he  began 
to  insist  on  public  honor  being  paid  to  his  authority. 
He  placed  his  ^  hat  on  the  top  of  a  high  pole  in  the 
market-place  at  Altorf,  and  gave  orders  that  every 
one  who  passed  should  uncover  the  head  and  bend 
the  knee.  ^^The  least  murmur,"  said  the  tyrant, 
'Hhe  smallest  opposition,  must  be  punished  with 
chains."  The  patriots  were  indignant,  but  they 
submitted.  They  knew  that  the  day  for  the  upris- 
ing was  near  at  hand,  and  were  all  the  more  careful 
to  obey  the  orders  of  the  tyrant. 

n. 

One  day  Tell  came  to  Altorf,  and  entered  the 
market-place,  holding  his  young  son  by  the  liand. 

*  According  to  some  writers  it  was  the  duke's  hat. 


BALLADS   AND  TALES.  125 

The  remarkable  order  of  Gessler  had  not  reached 
Tell,  and  he  knew  not  what  to  think  as  he  saw  the 
soldiers  guarding  in  silence  the  pole  on  which  was 
the  embroidered  hat  of  the  tyrant;  he  was  filled 
with  amazement.  But  when  he  saw  the  citizens  of 
Altorf  bowing  down  before  the  hat  and  the  soldiers 
using  their  spears  to  force  the  citizens  to  bend  still 
lower,  he  could  hardly  I'estrain  himself. 

The  guards  soon  noticed  the  man  who  alone  stood 
while  all  around  knelt  before  the  hat.  They  were 
at  his  side  in  a  moment. 

""  Take  off  your  cap  !  "  cried  they,  "  and  bend  the 
knee  before  the  emblem  of  imperial  power  ! " 

"  I  bend  the  knee  to  God  alone,  and  His  is  the 
only  power  that  I  adore,"  said  Tell. 

He  was  instantly  seized,  and  his  son  was  torn 
from  him.  He  was  dragged  before  the  governor, 
and  an  account  of  the  incident  in  the  market-place 
was  given.  Tell  regarded  his  accusers  with  scorn, 
and  made  no  answer  to  their  charges.  His  calm 
demeanor  and  majestic  appearance  astonished  and 
appalled  Gessler,  who  was  seized  with  a  presenti- 
ment that  the  man  standing  before  him  had  come  to 
avenge  his  crimes.  He  did  not  dare  to  speak,  and 
dreaded  even  to  look  at  the  prisoner.  At  last,  see- 
ing that  his  silence  was  noticed  by  the  soldiers,  he 
made  a  great  effort  to  recover  himself,  and  said : 


126  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

"  Why  didst  thou  refuse  to  show  me  the  respect 
which  is  due  me  ?  Speak,  if  thoa  canst  say  aught 
in  thy  defence,  and  remember  that  if  I  have  the 
power  to  punish  I  have  also  the  power  to  pardon." 

At  these  words  Tell  looked  calmly  at  his  ques- 
tioner, and  replied : 

"  Punish  me,  but  ask  me  not  to  tell  my  thoughts. 
Thou  canst  not  listen  to  the  truth." 

"  I  can  listen  to  the  truth  if  it  has  aught  to  in- 
struct me.     Speak  !  "  said  the  governor. 

"  Listen,  since  thou  hast  commanded  me  to  speak," 
said  Tell.  "  The  cries  of  the  innocent  whom  thou 
hast  punished,  the  voices  of  the  widows  and  orphans 
whose  husbands  and  fathers  have  perished  at  thy 
hands,  have  cried  to  Heaven  for  vengeance.  The 
Lord  has  prepared  His  thunderbolt.  It  will  soon 
strike  thee,  and  my  country  shall  be  free.  I  have 
refused  to  debase  myself  in  the  market-place  before 
the  emblem  of  thy  pride.  Now  I  call  thee  tyrant 
to  thy  face,  and  I  await  my  death." 

A  dreadful  silence  succeeded  Tell's  words.  Gess- 
ler  could  scarcely  believe  his  ears. 

The  tyrant  soon  roused  himself,  however,  and 
began  to  consider  how  he  might  humble  the  man 
who  had  the  hardihood  to  defy  him  to  his  face. 
Such  a  man  must  be  tortured  in  some  extraordinary 
way.     So,   instead   of   expressing  any  anger,   Gess- 


BALLADS  AND   TALES.  127 

ler  feigned  admiration,  and  as  if  wishing  to  make  a 
friend  of  him,  began  to  question  him.  Tell  briefly 
answered  each  question,  and  finally,  when  asked  his 
name,  replied :  "  William  Tell !  "  That  name,  so 
well  known  in  Altorf,  startled  Gessler,  but  he  con- 
cealed his  agitation. 

^^What!"  said  he;  "art  thou  the  Tell  whose 
skill  in  guiding  a  boat  is  so  famous,  and  whose 
arrow  has  never  been  known  to  miss  its  aim  ? " 

"I  am  he,"  replied  Tell,  ^^and  I  blush  that  my 
name  is  known  only  for  exploits  of  no  value  to 
my  country." 

At  this  moment  Tell's  son  was  brought  in,  and 
with  a  glad  cry  the  boy  sprang  into  his  father's 
arms.  Here  was  Gessler's  opportunity  for  the 
fiendish  vengeance  he  desired  to  wreak  on  the  bold 
patriot.  • 

"  Listen  to  what  1  have  determined,"  said  Gessler. 
"I  desire,  while  punishing  thy  insolence,  to  pay  a 
tribute  to  that  skill  which  is  the  pride  of  thy  coun- 
try. If  thine  arrow  can  at  a  hundred  paces  cleave 
an  apple  on  thy  son's  head,  I  will  pardon  thee,  and 
thou  with  thy  son  shalt  go  thy  way.  But  if  thou 
refuse  the  trial,  let  both  prepare  for  instant  execu- 
tion." 

"  I  will  not  accept  this  trial !  "  cried  Tell.  "  Lead 
me  to  death." 


128  BALLADS   AND   TALES. 

"  Not  only  thyself,  but  thy  son  as  well,"  said  the 
tyrant. 

"  What  !  kill  this  innocent  boy  ?  What  a  fiend 
thou  art !  My  boy !  O  Gessler,  hear  me  !  Thy 
guards,  the  example  of  my  poor  countrymen,  the 
certainty  of  death,  have  not  made  me  bow  to  the 
emblem  of  thy  power.  But  I  am  now  ready  to 
prostrate  myself  before  thee,  tyrant  as  thou  art,  if 
thou  wilt  spare  my  boy." 

"  Thou  canst  save  both  him  and  thyself,"  calmly 
said  the  governor. 

"  And  kill  my  boy  with  mine  own  hand  ?  Dost 
thou  think  I  could  steadily  aim  the  arrow  at  an 
apple  on  the  head  of  my  boy,  when  a  slight  mis- 
chance would  cause  his  death  ? "  exclaimed  Tell. 
"  Ah,  no  !     Kill  me,  but  spare  my  son  !  " 

"  Father,"  said  the  boy,  "  do  not  humble  thyself 
before  this  tyrant.  I  am  willing  to  accept  the  trial, 
for  I  trust  thy  skill.  Heaven  will  direct  thy  hand, 
and  I  shall  not  be  injured.  Let  them  lead  us  to 
the  spot,  and  thou  shalt  make  the  trial  at  once." 

Tell  gazed  on  his  son  for  some  time  without  a 
word.  Then  suddenly  raising  his  head,  he  turned 
to  Gessler  and  exclaimed :  '^  I  will  obey  !  Let  me 
make  the  trial  at  once  !  " 

Gessler  made  a  sign,  and  the  guards  surrounded 
the  prisoners  and  prepared  to  lead  them  forth. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  129 


III. 


News  of  tlie  terrible  trial  of  skill  had  gone 
abroad,  and  a  great  crowd  assembled  in  the  market- 
place. The  eyes  of  the  women  w^ere  filled  with 
tears  and  the  hearts  of  the  men  throbbed  with  sym- 
pathy, but  not  a  word  came  from  their  lips,  as  they 
gazed  on  Tell  and  his  boy. 

The  ground  was  quickly  measured  and  a  double 
line  of  soldiers  was  drawn  up.  At  the  further  end 
of  the  space  young  Tell  calmly  knelt,  and  the  apple 
was  placed  on  his  head.  Just  behind  Tell  stood 
Gessler,  surrounded  by  his  guards. 

The  patriot  stood  motionless  as  a  statue.  His 
bow  and  one  arrow  were  handed  to  him.  He  tried 
the  point  and  broke  it. 

"  Bring  my  quiver,"  said  he,  "  and  let  me  select 
my  own  arrow." 

The  quiver  was  brought  and  laid  on  the  ground. 
The  despairing  father,  bending  over,  quickly  con- 
cealed an  arrow  in  his  bosom,  and  then,  fitting  an- 
other to  his  bow,  stood  erect. 

A  hush  fell  on  the  multitude. 

Twice  he  raised  his  bow  to  shoot,  but  each  time 
the  sight  of  his  boy's  fair,  young  face  unnerved  his 
arm.     He  tried  to  accustom  his  eye  to  look  only  at 


130 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


tlie  apple  and  not  at  his  boy.  At  last  tlie  moment 
came  when  he  saw  only  the  apple.  There  was  the 
twang  of  a  bowstring — the  flash  of  an  arrow  through 
the  air — and    the  apple   was  pierced   through  the 


core.  The  shout  that  rose  from  the  crowd  echoed 
and  re-echoed  from  the  hills  around.  But  Tell  heard 
nothing.  He  stood,  unable  to  return  the  joyous 
caresses  of  the  boy,  who  had  run  to  his  father's  arms. 
Thinking  his  father  was  about  to  faint,  the  boy 
loosened  TelVs  vest,  and  an  arrow  fell  to  the  ground. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  131 

Gessler's  quick  eye  saw  the  arrow,  and  he  thus  ad- 
dressed Tell  : 

"  Thy  countrymen  have  not  too  highly  praised  thy 
skill.  I  shall  keep  my  promise  and  set  thee  free. 
But  why  didst  thou  conceal  this  arrow  ? " 

Tell  had  now  recovered  himself.  At  the  tyrant's 
voice,  he  turned  and  replied  : 

"  Had  my  boy  been  slain,  this  arrow  would  have 
pierced  thy  heart,  thou  tyrant ! " 

Gessler  stepped  back  in  terror  at  these  words, 
and  ordered  Tell  to  be  bound  in  chains  and  cast 
into  prison.  The  boy  was  torn  from  his  father 
and  permitted  to  go  free. 

IV. 

Young  Tell,  unable  to  join  his  father,  was  taken 
in  and  cared  for  by  some  of  the  citizens  of  Altorf. 
These  people  knew  of  the  plans  already  set  on  foot 
by  Tell  for  the  liberation  of  his  country.  They 
knew  that  the  patriots  had  agreed  to  arm  themselves 
and  assemble  on  a  given  signal. 

The  usual  mode  of  si^inallin^  from  one  mountain 
settlement  to  another  was  to  kindle  a  huge  bonfire. 
So  a  guide  Avas  appointed  to  go  to  Tell's  village 
with  the  boy,  and  light  the  signal-Are.  This  would 
call  the  patriots  to  arms,  and  bring  them  to  Altorf, 
where  they  could  overpower  the  guards  and  release 


132  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Tell.  The  boy,  intelligent  beyond  his  years,  was 
but  too  glad  to  accompany  the  guide. 

After  a  tedious  journey  they  arrived  at  Tell's 
home.  As  soon  as  darkness  fell  the  signal-fire  was  kin- 
dled, and  flame  after  flame  in  answer  to  the  summons 
blazed  forth  from  the  neighboring  mountain-tops. 

When  the  mountaineers  saw  the  signal-lights 
they  thought  the  hour  had  come  to  strike  a  blow 
for  liberty.  They  had  perfect  confidence  in  Tell, 
and  believed  the  signal  came  from  him.  The  men 
on  each  separate  mountain  seized  their  arms  and 
hurried  to  their  meeting-place.  Soon  in  the  gather- 
ing darkness  a  band  from  every  hamlet  of  the 
three  cantons  began  the  march  to  Altorf.  They 
were  clad  in  goat-skins,  and  armed  only  with  spears 
or  crossbows ;  but  every  man  was  a  patriot  and 
every  heart  was  strong  with  a  resolve  to  drive  the 
hated  Austrian  from  the  land. 

Gessler  was  soon  warned  of  the  danger  that  threat- 
ened. His  sentinels  hurried  to  him  with  the  news 
that  signal-fires  were  blazing  on  all  the  mountains. 
He  trembled  for  his  own  safety  and  for  the  control 
of  the  province. 

He  decided  to  take  advantage  of  the  darkness 
and  to  go  at  once  in  person  for  reinforcements,  in- 
tending to  return  and  crush  to  the  dust  the  people 
who  had  dared  to  rise  against  him.     The  only  way 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  133 

to  go  was  by  Lake  Lucerne,  a  beautiful  sheet  of 
water,  lyiiig  among  the  mountains  and  stretching 
many  miles  to  the  northward.  Accordingly,  he 
ordered  a  boat  to  be  made  ready.  He  determined  to 
take  his  prisoner  with  him  to  his  castle  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  lake,  to  dungeons  from  which  there 
would  be  little  chance  of  escape.  Tell  was  brought 
forth,  loaded  with  chains  and  strongly  guarded,  and 
was  placed  in  the  boat.  Gessler  seated  himself  at 
the  prow  and  gave  the  command  to  go  forward. 

The  night  was  calm,  the  stars  shone  brightly,  and 
the  boat  fairly  flew  through  the  water.  The  upper 
lake  was  soon  left  behind,  and  the  strait  which 
leads  into  the  second  lake  was  passed.  As  the  open 
water  beyond  was  reached  a  strong  breeze  arose,  but 
it  only  sent  the  boat  more  rapidly  forward. 

As  Tell  lay  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  he  saw  a 
red  light  on  a  neighboring  hill.  Soon  he  saw 
another,  and  another,  until  it  seemed  as  though 
every  hill  had  its  shining  beacon,  and  he  wondered 
who  had  given  the  signal  that  was  to  be  given  by 
him  alone. 

Suddenly,  as  the  boat  was  in  the  deepest  waters 
of  the  lake,  the  breeze  increased  to  a  gale.  At  the 
same  time  a  furious  wind  came  roaring  down  the 
mountain,  sending  high  the  waves  on  either  side  of 
the  vessel.     The  mast  was  broken  and  the  sail  fell. 


134  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

In  spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  helmsman,  the  boat  was 
driven  sidewise  toward  the  rocky  coast,  Avhere  it 
surely  would  be  dashed  to  pieces. 

It  seemed  as  though  no  human  effort  could  save  the 
vessel,  and  the  rowers  in  despair  ceased  to  struggle 
and  held  the  oars  idly  in  their  hands.  Gessler  threat- 
ened, begged,  offered  rich  rewards,  but  the  rowers 
could  not  regain  control  of  the  boat. 

In  the  midst  of  the  tumult  Tell  lay  in  the  boat 
and  calmly  awaited  death.  He  was  content,  and  even 
smiled  at  the  thought  that  the  tyrant  must  also  die. 

At  length  one  of  the  boatmen  cried  out :  "  We 
can  no  longer  steer  the  boat  among  the  waves. 
The  only  man  who  can  save  us  is  here — Tell,  the 
most  skilful  boatman  in  all  Switzerland.  Set  him 
free,  and  beg  him  to  save  us." 

Gessler  hesitated,  for  his  hatred  of  Tell  was  nearly 
as  strong  as  his  love  of  life  ;  but  the  entreaties,  mur- 
murs, and  even  threats  of  his  companions,  as  well 
as  the  increasing  tempest,  urged  him  to  a  decision. 

''  Strike  off  his  fetters,"  said  he  ;  "I  pardon  all  his 
crimes  on  condition  that  he  bring  us  safely  into  port." 

As  his  chains  fell  off.  Tell  arose  and  silently 
seized  the  helm.  He  turned  the  head  of  the  boat 
with  the  greatest  ease,  and  the  boatmen  again 
bent  to  their  oars.  The  storm  raged,  and  lashed 
the    waves   into   fury ;  but  they  did    not   seem  to 


BALLADS  AND   TALES. 


135 


impede  the  progress  of   the  vessel,  now  that    the 
master  hand  of  Tell  was  on  the  helm. 


j^^/    M 

.*^ 

^3 

W 

.V 

-^^^B 

^^ 

^^-_'^>- 

^^^ 

There  was  but  one  direction  in  which  the  boat 
could  safely  go,  and  that  was  back  toward  Altorf. 


136  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Tell  was  steering  the  boat  in  that  direction.  In  the 
darkness  and  the  storm  Gessler  did  not  perceive 
this.  He  did  not  notice  when  the  boat  passed 
through  the  narrow  strait  and  re-entered  the  upper 
lake ;  but  Tell  recognized  the  mountains  of  Uri. 

The  storm  was  subsiding,  but  the  waves  were 
still  running  high  as  the  dawn  broke,  and  Altorf 
was  seen  in  the  distance.  Gessler,  seeing  where  he 
was,  demanded  fiercely  why  Tell  had  brought  him 
back  to  Altorf. 

Instead  of  replying,  Tell  pushed  the  boat  against 
a  rock  towards  which  he  had  been  steering,  and  seiz- 
ing a  bow  and  arrow  leaped  upon  the  rock.  This 
rock  projected  over  the  water,  and  has  ever  since 
been  called  "  Tellsplatte."  From  it  he  sprang  to 
another  rock  on  the  shore,  and  stood  in  an  attitude 
of  defiance. 

With  a  cry  of  fury,  Gessler  commanded  his  men 
to  land  and  follow  Tell.  As  they  strove  to  reach 
the  shore,  the  body  of  Gessler  was  left  unprotected. 
This  gave  Tell  the  opportunity  which  his  quick 
mind  had  foreseen.  In  an  instant  his  arrow  had 
pierced  Gessler's  heart,  and  the  tyrant  fell  back  in 
the  boat,  dead.* 

Before  the  guards  could  recover  from  their  amaze- 

*  According  to  some  autliorities,  Gessler  was  not  shot  in  the  boat, 
but  subsequently  in  a  mountain  pass. 


BALLADS   AND   TALES.  137 

ment,  Tell  had  disappeared.  As  he  flew  towards 
Altorf,  he  heard  cries  and  the  sound  of  arms.  He 
reached  the  market-place  to  find  it  occupied  by  the 
patriotic  mountaineers.  As  soon  as  Tell  was  seen, 
a  great  shout  went  up  and  echoed  among  the  moun- 
tains. "  He  is  our  leader,  and  his  commands  alone 
will  we  obey  ! " 

"  My  countrymen,"  said  Tell,  ''  the  tyrant  Gessler 
is  no  more.  Our  country  is  avenged,  but  it  is  not 
yet  free.  It  will  not  be  free  so  long  as  there  re- 
mains a  single  stone  of  the  fortress  that  shelters 
the  Austrian  troops.  Let  us  hasten  to  begin  the 
attack." 

He  seized  in  his  left  hand  the  standard  of  Uri, 
and,  grasping  a  battle-axe  in  his  right  hand,  sped 
with  his  men  toward  the  mountain  on  which  stood 
the  Austrian  fortress. 

A  cloud  of  arrows  fell  from  the  ramparts.  But 
one  party  of  besiegers  had  found  a  gate  that  w^as 
not  well  guarded.  This  they  soon  forced  open,  and 
rushed  in.  As  the  Austrians  turned  to  meet  the 
foe  now  within  their  walls,  another  gate  was  bat- 
tered down,  and  Tell  entered  at  the  head  of  his 
men. 

The  Austrians  were  now  ready  to  yield  up  the 
fort,  and  the  standard  of  Tell's  canton  of  Uri  was 
soon  waving  over  the  battlements. 


138  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

After  bidding  the  brave  mountaineers  return 
thanks  to  God  for  their  great  success,  Tell  said  : 

"  Comrades,  retain  your  simple  ways.  Rely  upon 
God  and  yourselves.  Let  no  tyrant  conquer  you. 
Fear,  equally  with  the  tyrant  from  abroad,  the  tyrant 
who  may  rise  from  your  own  ranks.  Labor  virtu- 
ously and  courageously,  and  you  will  become  the 
admiration  of  future  generations." 

This  victory  was  followed  by  others,  till,  a  few 
years  later,  after  the  signal  victory  at  the  pass  of 
Morgarten,  in  1315,  the  independence  of  the  three 
cantons  was  recognized.  Later,  other  cantons  joined 
the  confederacy,  other  victories  were  gained  over 
the  Austrians,  and  finally  the  independence  of 
Switzerland  was  accomplished. 

A    LEGEND    OF    BREGENZ.^ 

Girt  round  with  ruo-o^ed  mountains 

The  fair  Lake  Constance  lies; 
In  her  blue  heart  reflected, 

Shine  back  the  starry  skies; 

*  Bregenz  {pron.  bra'ghents),  picturesquely  situated  on  the  east 
shore  of  Lake  Constance,  is  a  town  of  the  Tyrol  {pron.  tir'ol),  a  prov- 
ince of  Austria,  adjoining  Switzerland  on  the  east.  It  is  on  the  site 
of  the  old  Roman  Brigantium.  It  was  for  several  centuries  one  of 
the  chief  fortified  places  of  southern  Europe.  In  1646  the  Swedes 
stormed  and  captured  the  fortress. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  139 

And  watcMng  each  white  cloudlet 

Float  silently  and  slow, 
You  think  a  piece  of  heaven 

Lies  on  our  earth  below. 

Midnight  is  there;  and  silence, 

Enthroned  in  Heaven,  looks  down 
Upon  her  own  calm  mirror, 

Upon  a  sleeping  town : 
For  Bregenz,  that  quaint  city 

Upon  the  Tyrol  shore. 
Has  stood  above  Lake  Constance 

A  thousand  years  and  more. 

Her  battlements  and  towers. 

Upon  their  rocky  steep. 
Have  cast  their  trembling  shadow 

For  ages  on  the  deep; 
Mountain,  and  lake,  and  valley 

A  sacred  legend  know 
Of  how  the  town  was  saved  one  night 

Three  hundred  years  ago. 

Far  from  her  home  and  kindred 

A  Tyrol  maid  had  fled, 
To  serve  in  the  Swiss  valleys. 

And  toil  for  daily  bread; 


140  Ballads  and  tales. 

And  every  yeaf  that  fleeted 

So  silently  and  fast, 
Seemed  to  bear  farther  from  her 

The  memory  of  the  Past. 

She  served  kind,  gentle  masters, 

Nor  asked  for  rest  or  change; 
Her  friends  seemed  no  more  new  ones. 

Their  speech  seemed  no  more  strange ; 
And  when  she  led  her  cattle 

To  pasture  every  day. 
She  ceased  to  look  and   wonder 

On  which  side  Bregenz  lay. 

She  spoke  no  more  of  Bregenz 

With  longing  and  with  tears; 
Her  Tyrol  home  seemed  faded 

In  a  deep  mist  of  years; 
She  heeded  not  the  rumors 

Of  Austrian  war  or  strife ; 
Each  day  she  rose  contented 

To  the  calm  toils  of  life. 

Yet,  when  her  master's  children 
Would  clustering  round  her  stand. 

She  sang  them  the  old  ballads 
Of  her  own  native  land ; 


BALLADS   AND   TALES.  141 

And  when  at  morn  and  evening 

She  knelt  before  God's  throne, 
The  accents  of  her  childhood 

Rose  to  her  lips  alone. 

And  so  she  dwelt  :  the  valley 

More  peaceful   year  by  year; 
When  suddenly  strange  portents 

Of  some  great  deed  seemed  near. 
The  golden  corn  was  bending 

Upon  its  fragile  stalk, 
While  farmers,  heedless  of  their  fields. 

Paced  up  and  down  in  talk. 

The  men  seemed  stern  and  altered, 

With  looks  cast  on  the  ground; 
With  anxious  faces,  one  by  one. 

The  women  gathered  round ; 
All  talk  of  flax,  or  spinning. 

Or  work  was  put  away ; 
The  very  children  seemed  afraid 

To  go  alone  to  play. 

One  day,  out  in  the  meadow 

With  strangers  from  the  town. 
Some  secret  plan  discussing, 

The  men  walked  up  and  down ; 


142  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Yet,  now  and  then  seemed  watching 
A  strange,  uncertain  gleam, 

That  looked  like  lances  'mid  the  trees 
That  stood  below  the  stream.     ^ 

At  eve  they  all  assembled, 

All  care  and  doubt  were  fled; 
With  Jovial  laugh  they  feasted, 

The  board  w^as   nobly  spread. 
The  elder  of  the  village 

Rose  up,  his  glass  in  hand, 
And  cried,  "We  drink  the  downfall 

Of  an  accursed  land! 

"The  night  is  growing  darker; 

Ere  one  more  day  is  flown 
Bregenz,  our  foeman's  stronghold, 

BregCDz  shall  be  our  own ! " 
The  women  shrank  in  terror, 

(Yet  Pride,  too,  had  her  part), 
But  one  poor  Tyrol  maiden 

Felt  death  within  her  heart. 

Before  her  stood  fair  Bregenz, 
Once  more  her  towers  arose ; 

What  were  the  friends  beside  her? 
Only  her  country's  foes ! 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  143 

The  faces  of  her  kinsfolk, 

The  days  of  childhood  flown, 
The  echoes  of  her  mountains, 

Reclaimed  her  as  their  own ! 

Nothing  she  heard  around  her 

(Though  shouts  rang  forth  again)  ; 
Gone  were  the  green  Swiss  valleys. 

The  pasture,  and  the  plain; 
Before  her  eyes  one  vision, 

And  in  her  heart  one  cry, 
That  said,  "  Go  forth,  save  Bregenz, 

And  then,  if  need  be,  die  ! " 

With  trembling  haste  and  breathless, 

With  noiseless  step  she  sped ; 
Horses  and  weary  cattle 

Were  standing  in  the  shed ; 
She  loosed  the  strong  white  charger 

That  fed  from  out  her  hand; 
She  mounted  and  she  turned  his  head 

Towards  her  native  land. 

Out — out  into  the  darkness — 

Faster,  and  still  more  fast; 
The  smooth  grass  flies  behind  her. 

The  chestnut  wood  is  past; 


144  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

She  looks  up ;  clouds  are  heavy : 
Why  is  her  steed  so  slow? 

Scarcely  the  wind  beside  them 
Can  pass  them  as  they  go. 

"Faster!"  she  cries,  "O  faster!" 

Eleven  the  church  bells  chime; 
"O  God,"  she  cries,  "help  Bregenz^ 

And  brino;  me  there  in  time ! " 
But  louder  than  bells  ringing, 

Or  lowing  of  the  kine. 
Grows  nearer  in  the  midnight 

The  rushing  of  the  Rhine. 

Shall  not  the  roaring  waters 

Their  headlong  gallop  check? 
The  steed  draws  back  in  terror; 

She  leans  above  his  neck 
To  watch  the  flowing  darkness ; 

The  bank  is  high  and  steep. 
One  pause — he  staggers  forward, 

And  plunges  in  the  deep. 

She  strives  to  pierce  the  blackness^ 
And  looser  throws  the  rein ; 

Her  steed  must  breast  the  waters 
That  dash  above  his  mane. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


145 


How  gallantly,  how  nobly, 

He  struggles  through  the  foam, 

And  see — in  the  far  distance 
Shine  out  the  lights  of  home  ! 


Up  the  steep  bank  he  bears  her, 
And  now  they  rush  again 

Towards  the  heights  of  Bregenz, 
That  tower  above  the  plain. 

They  reach  the  gate  of  Bregenz 
Just  as  the  midnight  rings. 

And  out  come  serf  and  soldier 

To  meet  the  news  she  brings. 
10 


14:6  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Bregeiiz  is  saved !     Ere  day  light 

Her  battlements  are  manned ; 
Defiance  greets  the  army 

That  marches  on  the  land. 
And  if  to  deeds  heroic 

Should  endless  fame  be  paid, 
Bregenz  does  well  to  honor 

The  noble  Tyrol  maid. 

Three  hundred  years  are  vanishedj 

And  yet  upon  the  hill 
An  old  stone  gateway  rises 

To  do  her  honor  still. 
And  there,  when  Bregenz  women 

Sit  spinning  in  the  shade, 
They  see  in  quaint  old  carving 

The  Charger  and  the  Maid. 

And  when,  to  guard  old  Bregenz, 

By  gateway,  street,  and  tower. 
The  warder  paces  all  night  long, 

And  calls  each  passing  hour: 
"Nine,"  "ten,"  "eleven,"  he  cries  aloud. 

And  then  (O  crown  of  Fame  !), 
When  midnight  pauses  in  the  skies. 

He  calls  the  maiden's  name  ! 

— Adelaide  Akiste  Procter. 


BALLADS   AND  TALES. 


147 


RICHARD,  THE  LION-HEARTED. 


I. 

One  fine  day  in  autumn,  in  the  year  1193,  three 
men,  bearing  in  their  hands  branches  of  palm  and 
dressed  as  pilgrims  who  had  come  from  the  Holy 
Land,  entered  a  little  village  not  far  from  Vienna. 

They  seemed  worn  with  toil  and  travel,  and  they 
had    allowed    their 
hair  and   beards   to 
grow     to     a     great 
length. 

One  of  these  palm- 
ers was  very  tall  and 
well  proportioned. 
Every  movement 
showed     the    o-reat 

o 

strength  of  his 
limbs,  but  he  was 
no  less  graceful  than 
powerful.     His  eyes 

were  blue  and  bright,  and  his  hair  was  of  a  color 
between  red  and  auburn.  As  he  strode  along,  his 
gait  and  gestures  made  him  appear  more  like  a  mon- 
arch than  a  meek  and  pious  pilgrim. 

In    travelling  from  town   to   town,  the  palmers, 


148  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

instead  of  begging  alms,  spent  their  money  freely. 
Moreover,  they  took  pains  to  avoid  the  castles  and 
palaces  of  the  great,  the  very  places  which  other  pil- 
grims most  anxiously  sought. 

Arriving  at  the  village,  they  stopped  at  the  miser- 
able inn,  instead  of  proceeding  to  Vienna,  where  the 
best  food  and  lodging  were  to  be  had.  As  soon  as 
they  entered  the  hovel,  one  of  them  took  from  his 
scrip  a  noble  goose.  This  was  placed  on  the  spit, 
and  the  cooking  was  directed  by  the  tall  palmer 
himself.  The  travellers  brought  out  their  own  flag- 
ons, but  they  paid  the  host  as  much  as  though  they 
had  purchased  the  wine  he  so  highly  recommended. 

Their  gayety  during  the  meal  again  belied  their 
garb,  and  they  ate  and  drank  heartily  indeed. 
When  they  had  finished  their  meal,  the  tall  palmer 
became  serious,  and  said :  "  We  must  be  wary — we 
are  watched.  The  Duke,  you  know,  loves  me  not ; 
and  were  I  to  fall  into  his  hands,  it  would  be  long  ere 
I  should  see  merry  old  England  again.  That  min- 
strel who  trod  so  closely  on  our  heels  is  a  spy,  I  war- 
rant ye  ;  for  his  features  and  accent,  however  he 
may  try  to  disguise  them,  prove  him  to  be  English. 
Nevertheless,  here  we  are,  w^ith  hearty  good  cheer 
before  us,  and,  reverend  pilgrims  though  we  be,  the 
stirrup-cup  and  the  song  must  not  be  forgotten." 

Whilst  the  palmers  were  singing  their  lay,  a  min- 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  149 

strel  entered  the  room,  and,  placing  himself  at  its 
farthest  extremity,  leaned  upon  his  harp,  and  gazed 
intently  at  them. 

There  was  a  mixture  of  cunning  and  malignity  in 
the  expression  of  his  countenance  as  he  scanned  the 
features  of  the  tall  palmer.  AVhen  the  song  was 
concluded  he  rose,  and,  approaching  the  festive 
board,  bowed  respectfully.  The  palmers  started  as 
if  they  had  seen  a  spectre.  "  Ha ! "  said  one  of 
them,  "  'tis  the  spy  minstrel !  What  wouldst  thou 
with  us,  man?  We  are  palmers,  and  it  would  ill 
accord  us  to  listen  to  the  profane  ditties  of  a  wan- 
dering minstrel." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  minstrel,  "  I  know  many  a  lay  to 
which  your  ears,  holy  fathers,  might  listen  with 
pious  pleasure.  I  can  tell  you  of  the  exploits  of 
good  knights  in  the  Holy  Land,  of  holy  Peter  the 
Hermit,  of  the  noble  Godfrey,  and  of  brave  King 
Richard  of  England." 

"  Nay,  nay,"  said  the  tall  palmer,  hastily ;  "  begone, 
I  pray  thee ;  we  have  our  devotions  to  perform,  and 
must  retire  early  to  our  humble  beds  that  we  may 
be  stirring  betimes  in  the  morning." 

"  Ye  are  indeed  churlish,"  said  the  minstrel,  "  and 
ye  shall  remember  to  your  cost  that  ye  gave  the 
minstrel  neither  meat  nor  drink,  and  would  not 
listen  to  his  ditty." 


150  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

Then  the  minstrel  took  up  his  harp,  and  with  a 
look  of  defiance  left  the  apartment.  The  palmers, 
thus  left  to  themselves,  retired  to  rest. 

As  the  tall  palmer  slept,  a  thousand  visions  of  a 
thousand  things  presented  themselves  to  his  mind  in 
dreams.  War  and  tumult,  triumph,  imprisonment, 
and  dominion,  occupied  his  imagination  by  turns. 
He  dreamed  that  he  was  entering  a  great  city 
amidst  the  acclamations  of  thousands ;  warriors  and 
statesmen  hailed  him  as  their  lord ;  a  disloyal  and 
treacherous  brother  was  at  his  feet,  craving  pardoij 
and  expressing  penitence ;  and  the  mother  he  loved 
so  well  laid  a  hand  upon  his  arm.  But  the  touch 
seemed  heavy  and  violent,  and  he  awoke  with  a 
start,  to  find  himself  in  the  grasp  of  an  armed  man. 

He  shook  off  his  assailant  and,  clenching  his  hand, 
aimed  so  tremendous  a  blow  that  it  felled  the 
intruder  to  the  ground.  But  the  apartment  was  full 
of  armed  men,  and  the  two  other  palmers  were 
secured  and  bound. 

Not  wishing  to  encounter  the  gigantic  strength 
which  had  laid  low  their  leader,  no  one  dared  to 
advance. 

"  'Tis  he  whom  we  seek,"  said  one  of  them,  "  for 
no  other  man  could  have  aimed  a  blow  like  that ; 
but  close  round  him ;  we  are  surely  too  numerous, 
and  too  well  armed,  to  be  daunted  by  one  man." 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  151 

The  tall  palmer  defended  himself  for  some  time ; 
but  two  men,  stealing  behind  him,  threw  a  chain 
over  his  shoulders  and  bound  his  arms  fast.  Seeing 
that  he  was  overcome,  the  palmer  began  to  remon- 
strate. 

"  What  mean  ye  ?  "  said  he.  "  What  kind  of  men 
are  ye  to  assault  three  poor  palmers  who  are  travel- 
ling on  their  way  from  the  Holy  Land  ? " 

''Nay,  nay,"  said  the  minstrel,  stepping  forth; 
"  they  are  no  palmers  ;  and  when  my  lord  recovers 
from  the  effect  of  that  blow,  he  will  recognize  in 
this  man  a  person  whom  he  has  met  before." 

The  man  whom  the  palmer  had  stricken  to  the 
ground  was  now  recovering,  and  the  minstrel,  assist- 
ing him  to  his  feet,  said : 

"  My  lord,  once  more  behold  this  man,  and  say  if 
the  tale  that  I  told  thee  is  true." 

The  Duke  approached  the  palmer,  and  each  by 
the  glare  of  the  torches  gazed  on  the  other,  and 
beheld  the  features  of  his  most  deadly  foe. 

"  'Tis  Richard  of  England  !  "  said  the  Duke  ;  "  the 
betrayer  of  the  Christian  cause,  the  assassin  of  Con- 
rad, the  friend  of  usurpers  and  of  infidels  ! " 

''  Leopold  of  Austria,"  said  Richard,  "  thou  art  a 
liar  and  a  coward !  Unfetter  but  one  of  these 
hands,  and  then  repeat  what  thou  hast  said,  if  thou 
darest." 


152  ^        BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

"  Away  with  the  King,"  said  Leopold ;  "  if  he  may 
be  called  a  king  whose  brother  wears  his  crown,  and 
who  is  prisoner  to  a  duke." 

The  princely  Richard  was  borne  away  and 
thrown  into  a  dungeon.  Thus,  through  the  offices 
of  a  spy  in  the  employ  of  Richard's  treacherous 
brother  John,  Leopold  had  in  his  power  the  man 
who  had  insulted  him  at  the  siege  of  Acre,  when 
both  were  fighting  to  rescue  the  Holy  Land  from 
the  Saracens. 

II. 

Richai^d,  before  his  departure  on  the  crusade,  had 
declared  that  Arthur,  the  son  of  his  deceased 
brother,  should  succeed  to  the  throne.  John  imme- 
diately on  his  brother's  departure  set  about  to  secure 
the  throne  for  himself.  Many  were  the  intrigues 
and  quarrels  between  those  who  remained  loyal  to 
the  King  and  his  plans,  and  those  who  favored 
John.  At  length,  the  citizens  of  London  took  the 
oath  of  allegiance  to  John,  but  only  for  so  long  as 
Richard  should  be  absent  from  England.  John  had 
employed  spies  to  take  service  in  the  army  of  his 
brother,  and  to  prevent  his  return  by  every  means 
in  their  power  short  of  killing  him. 

But  the  fears  of  John  and  the  hopes  of  the  people 
wei*e  aroused  by  the  news  that  Richard  was  on  his 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


153 


way  back  to  England.  The  expectation  of  the  pub^ 
lie  was  disappointed.  News  gave  way  to  rumors ; 
and  at  last  nothing  whatever  could  be  learned  of 
the  brave  Richard.  But  the  loving  heart  of  Blon- 
del,  his  favorite  minstrel,  discovered  the  where- 
abouts of  the  king. 

Blondel  knew  that  Richard  had  determined  to 
travel  almost  unattended,  and  had  assumed  the  2:arb 
of  a  ^^ilgrim,  in  order  to  cross  the  continent  of  Eu- 
rope unknown  and  elude  the  snares  of  his  enemies. 

The  minstrel  waited  long  for  news  of  his  master, 
and  at  last  resolved 
to  search  for  him. 

After  months  of 
weary  travel  over 
central  Europe,  as 
the  minstrel  was  one 
day  singing  under 
the  walls  of  a  Ger- 
man castle  he  was 
delighted  to  hear 
his  ballad  taken  up 
and  concluded  by  a 
voice    from    within. 

He  recognized  the  voice  of  Richard,  and  he  knew 
that  his  search  was  at  an  end.  In  vain  did  Blondel 
endeavor  to    obtain  an  interview.     He    gained  ad- 


154  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

mission  to  the  castle,  but  was  unable  by  bribe  or 
persuasion  to  get  near  the  master  whom  he  so  longed 
to  see. 

Lingering  beneath  the  castle  walls  one  day,  and 
singing  one  of  the  airs  that  Richard  loved,  the  King 
from  his  prison  took  up  the  air  and  sang : 

^^^Tis  he  !  thy  prince — long  sought^  long  lost ; 
The  leader  of  the  Eed  Cross  host  ! 
^Tis  he  !  to  none  thy  joy  betray  ; 
Young  troubadour  !  away,  away  ! 
Away  to  the  island  of  the  brave, 
The  gem  on  the  bosom  of  the  wave  ; 
Arouse  the  sons  of  the  noble  soil 
To  win  their  lion  from  the  toil ; 
And  free  the  wassail  cup  shall  flow  ; 
Bright  in  each  hall  the  hearth  shall  glow ; 
The  festal  board  shall  be  richly  crowned, 
While  knights  and  chieftains  banquet  round  ; 
And  a  thousand  harps  with  joy  shall  ring. 
When  merry  England  hails  her  King  l^' 

Blondel  lost  no  time,  but  set  out  at  once.  Wher- 
ever he  could  find  a  listening  and  sympathetic  ear, 
he  sang  the  story  of  the  King's  captivity.  Europe 
was  startled  to  learn  that  one  of  the  champions  of 
Christendom  was  languishing  in  prison.  In  his  fear 
for  the  safety  of  his  prisoner,  Leopold  sold  him  to 
Henry,  Emperor  of  Germany.     The  Emperor  lodged 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  155 

Richard,  loaded  with  chains,  in  one  of  the  castles  of 
the  Tyrol,  and  surrounded  him  with  trust)^  guards, 
who  with  drawn  swords  attended  him  by  day  and 
watched  at  his  bedside  by  night. 

III. 

As  it  became  known  tliroughout  the  German  Em- 
pire that  King  Richard  of  England  was  in  the  cus- 
tody of  the  Emperor,  there  spread  exaggerated 
reports  of  the  captive's  personal  prowess.  Among 
those  who  listened  to  these  reports  with  great  impa- 
tience was  the  Emperor's  only  son,  Prince  Arthur, 
the  bravest  knight  and  the  strongest  man  in  Ger- 
many. The  stories  of  the  feats  of  Richard  excited 
his  Jealousy,  and  he  longed  for  an  opportunity  to 
try  his  strength  with  the  captive  monarch. 

The  English,  by  this  time,  had  made  offers  of 
large  ransom  for  the  liberation  of  their  King,  and 
Prince  Arthur  urged  his  father  to  release  Richard ; 
but  to  no  purpose.  The  noble  prince  desired  to  see 
him  at  liberty,  not  only  because  of  sympathy  for  the 
unmerited  sufferings  of  the  prisoner,  but  that  they 
might  meet  on  equal  terms,  and  try  fully  and  fairly 
the  strength  of  their  respective  arms. 

At  length,  he  became  so  impatient  of  delay  that 
he  won  the  Emperor's  consent  to  fix  a  day  for  a  trial 


156  BALLADS  AND  TALES. 

of  prowess.  Richard  smiled  when  he  received  the 
Prince's  challenge,  and  it  was  agreed  that  each 
should  give  and  receive  a  blow. 

On  the  day  appointed,  the  Emperor  and  Empress, 
with  their  attendants,  assembled  in  the  great  hall  of 
the  castle  to  witness  the  trial  of  strength. 

All  gazed  with  wonder  and  delight  as  the  King 
of  England  entered  the  hall.  His  gigantic  form,  his 
sinewy  limbs,  and  the  haughty,  undaunted  expres- 
sion of  his  features  filled  the  spectators  with  appre- 
hension for  the  Prince,  who  seemed,  however,  to 
entertain  no  fear  as  to  the  result. 

In  outward  appearance  the  two  men  were  nearly 
matched ;  the  Prince  was  as  tall  and  muscular  as  the 
King ;  each  had  sustained  the  assault  of  many  a  cele- 
brated warrior,  and  had  withstood  unmoved  the 
blows  of  the  mightiest.  Clad  in  silken  tunics,  and 
wearing  Oriental  turbans  on  their  heads,  they  stood 
before  each  other  unarmed. 

"Richard  of  England,"  said  Arthur,  "if  thou 
wouldst  forbear  this  trial,  acknowledge  that  thou 
darest  not  compete  with  me,  and  give  me  that  jewel 
in  thy  bonnet  in  token  of  acknowledgment." 

"  Arthur  of  Austria,"  replied  Richard,  "  I  came  not 
here  to  prate ;  and  if  the  Emperor  has  exhibited  me 
only  that  he  may  listen  to  the  vain  boastings  of  his 
son,  the  sooner  he  consigns  me  back  to  my  dungeon 


BALLADS  AND  TALES. 


157 


"^ili'lk.  m  vmwmu^^ i^fi^M*^'£ 


^r^-' 


the  better.     I  am  ready  to  bear  thy  blow,  but  I  lack 
both  the  wit  and  the  spirit  to  reply  to  thy  taunts." 

'^  Forbear,  Arthur,  forbear !  "  said  the  Empress, 
"and  pursue  not  this  rash  quarrel;  the  King  of 
England  is  thy  superior  in  strength.  Surely  a 
knight  like  thee  may,  without  discrediting  himself, 
make  such  an  acknowledgment  to  the  most  re- 
nowned warrior  in  Christendom  !  " 

"  Peace,  dearest  mother  !  "  said  the  Prince.  "  And 
now.  King  Richard,  --   _ 

look  to  thyself. 
Stand  firm,  or  the 
fame  of  thy  prowess 
is  dimmed  forever." 

Thus  saying,  he 
raised  his  arm, 
clenched  his  hand, 
and  aimed  at  Rich- 
ard's head  a  ponder- 
ous blow.  The  King 
met  the  shock  with 
folded  arms,  and 
stood  seemingly  no 
more  disturbed  than  the  sturdy  oak  in  a  summer 
breeze.     A  cry  of  admiration  rang  through  the  hall. 

"  Did  the  Prince  strike  me  ? "  asked  Richard,  turn- 
ing   to    the    spectators.      Then    again    facing   the 


m 


158  BALLADS   AND   TALES. 

Prince,  lie  said:  "Give  me  thy  hand,  young  sir; 
now  fare  thee  well,  and  may'st  thou  be  more  suc- 
cessful in  future  trials  of  strength." 

"Nay,  nay,  sir  King,"  said  the  Prince,  detaining 
him ;  "  this  courtesy  suits  me  not.  The  proud  barons 
of  England  must  not  say  that  their  King  disdained 
to  try  his  strength  on  a  German  prince.  Here 
stand  I,  ready  to  receive  thy  blow.  Thou  wilt  not ! 
Then  I  proclaim  thee  a  coward,  and  no  true  knight." 

The  King's  face  flushed  at  this  insult.  He  slowly 
clenched  his  hand,  raised  his  arm,  and,  sending  a 
blow  with  the  swiftness  of  lightning,  the  Prince  fell 
lifeless  to  the  ground. 

"  He's  slain  !  he's  slain  ! "  cried  the  Empress;  "the 
cold-hearted  Englishman  has  murdered  my  boy  ! " 

All  crowded  round  the  prostrate  body,  but  every 
efliort  failed  to  restore  it  to  life. 

The  Empress,  overcome  with  grief,  turned  to  her 
husband  and  said  :  "  It  is  the  finger  of  Heaven ;  thy 
wickedness  in  detaining  this  King  thy  prisoner  has 
drawn  the  wrath  of  God  upon  us.  Release  him, 
lest  ^  worse  evil  befall  us." 

"  No  !  "  replied  the  Emperor.  "  Away  with  him  ! 
Load  him  with  chains,  and  cast  him  into  the  most 
loathsome  dungeon  of  the  castle  ! "   • 

The  knightly  King  was  thrust  into  a  deep  dun- 
geon, into  which  no  ray  of  sunshine  ever  entered. 


BALLADS  AND  TALES.  159 

His  limbs  were  loaded  with  irons,  and  the  scantiest 
food  and  drink  provided  for  him. 

IV. 

Queen  Eleanor,  the  mother  of  Richard,  finally 
appealed  to  the  Pope,  and  induced  him  to  threaten 
the  Emperor  with  excommunication  unless  the  cap- 
tive were  released  at  once.  In  alarm,  the  Emperor 
agreed  that  Richard  should  he  tried  before  the 
imperial  diet  of  the  German  Empire. 

When  Richard  was  brought  before  this  body,  he 
made  such  a  manly  and  persuasive  answer  to  the 
charges  brought  against  him,  that  the  princes  of  the 
diet  heartily  applauded  him.  The  Emperor  himself 
ordered  the  King's  chains  to  be  stricken  off,  showed 
him  the  respect  due  to  a  crowned  head,  and  con- 
sented to  discuss  the  amount  of  his  ransom. 

Richard  immediately  sent  a  letter  to  England 
announcing  the  glad  news.  But  the  country  had 
been  drained  of  money  by  the  rapacity  of  John.  So 
the  sum  agreed  on  could  not  be  raised  at  once.  The 
Emperor  was  slow  to  conclude  the  bargain,  and  his 
terms  rose  at  each  delay.  Time  dragged  on,  and.it 
was  five  months  before  the  agreement  was  reached. 
This  was,  that  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  should 
be  paid,  and  that  the  crown  of  England  should  be 


1^0  BALLADS  AND   TALES. 

resigned  to  Henry,  from  whom  it  should  be  received 
by  Richard  as  a  vassal  of  the  Empire,  with  the  obli- 
gation of  a  yearly  payment  of  five  thousand  pounds. 

At  this  Juncture,  the  treacherous  John  offered  to. 
pay  the  Emperor  twenty  thousand  pounds  for  every 
month  he  should  detain  Richard  in  prison.  The 
Emperor  was  anxious  to  accept  this  offer,  but  the 
German  princes  compelled  him  to  release  his  pris- 
oner. More  than  seventy  thousand  pounds  were 
paid  the  day  Richard  was  released,  and  hostages 
were  given  for  the  payment  of  the  remainder. 

After  vexatious  delays,  Richard  landed  in  Eng- 
land, amidst  the  acclamations  of  his  subjects.  He 
had  been  absent  more  than  four  years.  The  treach- 
erous John  on  his  knees  implored  forgiveness,  and 
at  liis  mother's  request  he  was  received  into  favor, 
though  his  lands  and  castles  were  confiscated. 


YB  36785 


